Of Wolf and Man: Book I
by the-ear-that-isn't-there
Summary: 'He had no illusions about how his life would turn out; he was werewolf. That was it. However normal he pretended to be, that was always going to be the only constant in his life.' - The story of a boy as he deals with school, friends and growing up.
1. A Change is Gonna Come

This is story is going to be updated shortly. Newly edited/re-written chapters and content will be coming. Eventually... In the meantime, the previous chapters will remain up, if you do so wish to read them. But they will eventually be taken down and changed (hopefully for the better).


	2. Chapter I: Part I: New Morning

_A/N: Welcome, my friends! It has been a long time coming, but after 5 years in the making, I am FINALLY publishing this story. Sit tight, it's going to be a long, and most likely quite bumpy ride. This is merely the first taste of things to come, the first chapter in a fic that will, if I manage to keep writing (which I sincerely hope I do) be hundreds of chapters long. In fact, it is really only the first PART of the first chapter of this epic tale. Like I said, it is going to be a long ride._

_I have published one story before this, a four part prologue to this story, called, funnily enough, 'Of Wolf and Man; Prologue'. At this point in the narrative, the events of said prologue aren't mentioned (beyond Remus being a werewolf... but hopefully most people already know that), so it isn't necessary to read it. But if you have stumbled upon this story without reading the prologue first, and are interested in what you find here, please, by all means, I would adore for you to take a look back at it. It will eventually tie in more with the plot... though not for several years, if I'm honest. There is also a bit more of a history of my writing and this story at the beginning of the prologue._

_All right, I've delayed as long as I can. Time to take a breath, steel myself, and dive on in. I really hope you all enjoy this!_

_Here it is._

Disclaimer: I did not write, and therefore don't own, the Harry Potter books. If I did, there would be many more run-on sentences. You'll see what I mean soon.

* * *

**Of Wolf and Man**

**Chapter I**

**Part I**

New Morning

_In which we are introduced to our main protagonist and meet the people who will come to mean everything to him._

The streets were bitter and damp, the sky a leaden mass of angry clouds. It was a cold morning and there was a crispness to the air that smelt of impending rain. A chilling wind swept about the people on the footpaths, whipping at legs and faces, tugging devilishly at coats as though to pluck them from the bodies around which they were wrapped. The low-hanging sun was smothered by layers of thick and heavy fog that turned the city grey and shadowed.

Amidst the bustle of people hurrying to work and the swirl of jackets blowing in the wind, Remus Lupin stumbled along in the wake of his father as he tried to keep pace with the older man's stride.

If it weren't for the turbulent, nauseous feeling that swirled in his stomach, Remus may have actually been excited. After all, any normal child of eleven, hurrying on his way to Kings Cross Station and the school train waiting for him, would be. Any typical boy raised alone in the woods by his parents would be thrilled at the idea of making friends for the first time in his life. Any ordinary young wizard who had dreamt about the day when they would finally be able to go to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry would be delighted, exhilarated, if slightly nervous that that day had finally come. And Remus Lupin was no different from them, really.

So, why was it that whenever he gave a moment's thought to what he was about to do, he felt as if he was going to throw up and wanted to do nothing more than curl into a little ball in a quiet corner somewhere and wait for the opportunity to pass him by?

For as long as he could remember, he had wanted to go to Hogwarts. That in itself wasn't strange for a child of his upbringing; magic was in his blood and was a common part of his everyday life. What was strange about Remus Lupin, what made him different from all those regular children, was that as long as he had desperately wished to go to school, he knew he would never be able to. It was a fact he had long since come to terms with. The reason behind it was simple.

Remus Lupin was a werewolf.

Not that anyone would know just by looking at him. Remus was the sort of boy people overlooked without even realising it. He was small for his age, both in height and in build, and more than slightly pale. His sandy blonde-brown hair appeared, at a glance, to be more mousy than any other colour, and the blue eyes that sat beneath his pale brow looked a plain kind of dark grey in poor lighting. Nothing about Remus seemed out of the ordinary or eye-catching; he blended well into the background, just as he was supposed to.

Because it was only on closer inspection that people could see the nuances that marked him for what he was. It was only under a certain light that the silvery scars that ran across his face, from eyebrow to jaw line, were visible. Only a trained eye could see the way he used his right arm carefully, as though too strenuous activity hurt it. It was only with a precise gaze that a wary maturity could be seen in his otherwise youthful eyes. And Remus craved for people not to notice those things. The last thing he ever wanted was for others to find out what he really was.

Especially not now. Not now that he had been granted the miracle opportunity of a place at Hogwarts, courtesy of one Albus Dumbledore.

"We're here," his father spoke abruptly, jerking Remus back to attention. Looking up, he saw that they were standing at the centre of Kings Cross Station, surrounded by only a few other pedestrians waiting for their trains.

"This is the barrier, here," Roland Lupin said to his son, leading him over to the brick wall between platforms nine and ten. "Quickly now, while no one's watching." With wary glances around them, the father and son silently slipped through the wall, emerging onto the loading area of platform nine and three-quarters.

"I have to be going now," Roland said, turning to look at his son. "I can't be late for work again. Are you alright on your own from here?" Remus nodded up at him, not trusting his ability to produce coherent speech.

Roland continued, looking pale and almost as nervous as Remus himself. "Okay, good. Find a place to sit on the train and wait for eleven o'clock. Here." He pulled out of his pocket a small, rectangular case. Tapping it with his wand, it expanded in a blink, leaving in its place an old, worn trunk nearly the same size as Remus himself.

The boy tried to say thank you but only achieved a kind of defeated squeak.

His father smiled slightly and placed a warm hand on his shoulder. "You'll be fine. Everything will be alright." Despite his words, he didn't sound nearly as confident as Remus would have liked. "Write to us when you arrive, you can use one of the school owls." The boy nodded again.

"Remember, don't attract attention to yourself. Just be good and listen to your teachers." Roland drew his son to him for a brief hug before smiling tensely. "Look after yourself."

"Bye," Remus replied, his voice barely audible, and Roland disapparated with a crack.

As his father's tall frame vanished, Remus turned and found himself standing, alone, before the lurid scarlet engine waiting to take him to his new home. With a shaking breath and a rather audible gulp, he began making his way towards it, struggling with his heavy trunk as his mind wandered back to a dark and anxious place.

Around him, the stones of platform nine and three-quarters looked eerie and chilled in the half-light of the dark morning, the concrete pillars bleak and oppressive, the large analogue clock that loomed over the square sinister and manic, the hands of its face curving upwards in the beginnings of a mad, lopsided grin. Remus shook his head to clear the image.

"Relax. Going mad now won't help any," he murmured to himself.

He looked up at the clock again, no longer grinning madly at him but indicating that it was just past eight o'clock. Only another three hours to go, he thought dryly, as he heaved the case up the stairs of the train and into the compartment at the very back. With a heavy exhale, he slumped into a seat by the window, rubbing at his shoulder that always ached at this time of the month. He stowed his trunk away in the luggage rack after pulling out an old and obviously well loved paperback. Curling up against the window, Remus began to read, waiting for eleven o'clock.

Slowly, out on the platform, other students began to arrive.

* * *

Sirius felt sick. The cacophony of sounds that swirled around him did little to stay the butterflies somersaulting about in his abdomen. But he told himself he wasn't nervous. The eggs he'd had for breakfast just hadn't gone down well. Not that he had eaten much, again, not because he was so nervous the mere sight of food had sent his stomach churning, but for some other reason, one completely unrelated to anxiety of any kind. He definitely wasn't nervous; there was no need to be. He was Sirius Black and Blacks don't do nervous.

Of course, Blacks were also notorious liars so Sirius really wasn't sure what to believe.

All around him on platform nine and three-quarters, fellow students were greeting each other, clambering aboard the train, farewell-ing thrilled parents who beamed at them as their darling children made ready to depart. Of the students that remained standing on the platform, most appeared to be first years like Sirius himself, tangled in the arms of their weepy mothers, catching thumps on the shoulders and chuffed grins from proud fathers. It was really quite a sight to behold, an interesting observation of familial interaction that Sirius had little experience with.

In his family there were no tears, no hugs, not even a handshake. That wasn't how the noble and dignified Blacks worked. Sirius' parents, instead of fussing over their son, stood together, side by side, observing the riffraff that were the other students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, noses turned up and eyebrows curved. It was a look that made Sirius sure they must practise together for hours to get so identical.

His parents had always been this way – cold and unaffectionate – but watching how the other families carried on only highlighted how truly little warmth there was between the Blacks. However, Sirius wasn't complaining; he was perfectly content the way things were.

Though he may never admit it out loud, Sirius wasn't particularly fond of his family. He was sure he should feel some kind of guilt for that – was certain he would if he belonged to a different family – but the fact was, _no one_ was really fond of _anyone _in his household. They just weren't a likeable bunch of people. They weren't loving, or kind, or even basically _good_. Sirius wasn't sure what that made him, if he was like them or not, but deep down, in that small space at the back of his mind, he hoped like hell he wasn't.

Of course, beliefs such as that were strictly prohibited in his household. Blacks were not supporters of individuality of any kind. At the thought, Sirius immediately recalled his cousin, Andromeda, a prime example of the unforgiving, utterly intolerant nature of the Black family. Only the year before, her parents, with the support of a majority of the pureblooded society, had disowned her for marrying a muggle-born man. Sirius couldn't help but bristle at the injustice of their actions. He remembered Ted Tonks as being kind and very easy to like. He also made Andromeda happier than Sirius could ever recall his favourite cousin being.

When he had last spoken to her, she seemed perfectly content, pleased even that her family had decided to disassociate themselves with her. "I'm well shot of them, Sirius," she had said to him, grinning brilliantly. "Just give it a few years; you'll understand what I mean." Then she had winked at him before apparating away without a backwards glance at the people she was obligated by blood to call 'family'. While he had no idea what she was talking about, Sirius couldn't help but feel happy for her.

But it wasn't a sentiment he cared to share with anyone else.

"Look at them; wretched muggles," Orion Black, Sirius' father, said. He sneered across the platform at the parents of one of the other first year's, huddled in a corner, clearly terrified by having just walked through a seemingly solid wall. "Next thing we hear Dumbledore will have invited them right onto Hogwarts grounds to give them the grand tour. That man has no respect for blood or genuine magic. Like that sister of yours, and the mudblood she ran off with."

"Oh, I agree completely, Uncle, and I tell you this, Andromeda will not be missed."

The voice came from the other side of Sirius' parents and belonged to Narcissa Black. It was obvious to even the most distant outsider that they were related. With pale skin, statuesque bone structure, and impeccable mannerisms reminiscent of their high class, even with a five year age difference and contrasting hair colour, the two were easily identified as cousins.

"The house is certainly quieter without her preaching her muggle loving tirades at us," Narcissa continued in a haughty tone, flicking her silvery blonde hair over her shoulders with a twist of her head. "She may be my sister, but I'd sooner be related to a slug than her. At least a slug would have better taste."

As his parents' laughter settled over him, Sirius could feel his temper stir, bubbling up in his chest. He couldn't stop the words that broke from between his lips. "Dung would have better taste than you, Narcissa. Look a right side better, too."

He regretted his words almost immediately.

The chilling glare of his father's cold eyes made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and Sirius swore the man was staring into his very soul. When Orion finally spoke, the words were barely more than a whisper but resonated clear and loud in Sirius' ears.

"Keep your thoughts to yourself, boy," he spat beneath his breath. "Insolence such as that will not be tolerated so kindly in Slytherin as it is in my house."

The staring match that followed may have lasted for hours for all that Sirius knew. In reality, it took only moments before the boy broke eye contact and grabbed his trunk. Humbled and angry, he strode towards the train and climbed aboard without another word. He pulled his case into the first compartment he came across and threw himself into a seat.

"Slytherin indeed," he scoffed under his breath, wishing for once that such thoughts weren't always in vain.

* * *

Despite the fixed attention of at least four of the people with whom he was sharing a compartment, James Potter couldn't have been more confident. He was in his element. When conversation had turned to Quidditch, he knew he would have them all in the palm of his hand. He knew he was showing off, but after all, who could blame him. Most people didn't have such a surplus of thrilling and awe-inspiring stories up their sleeves, just waiting for an audience. James felt it would be cruel to deny the public their chance at hearing them.

As one of the older students added an anecdote of his own to the conversation, James let his attention wane and looked around to observe the other students sitting with him. None of them were familiar to him, which in itself was surprising. The Potters were a popular family and James was sure he knew most of the wizarding folk that lived in London. They must be from out of the city, he supposed. Of the lot of them, only three appeared to be the same age as he was; a chubby, blonde haired boy who hadn't spoken much but had listened avidly to everything James had said, and the only two people who hadn't participated in the discussion. One, a red-headed girl curled up against the window, watching the landscape roll by, and the other, a dark haired boy lounging opposite him who, though he was obviously trying to look sulky and uninterested, James was sure had been listening to all that had been said.

A movement outside the compartment caught his eye and he turned to look. Already dressed in their pristine school robes, silver and emerald ties proudly exposed on their chests, a group of Slytherins walked past. Despite being only a first year and yet to be sorted, James already knew to stay away from Slytherins. The hype they stirred up concerning the purity of blood was ridiculous. He had heard his parents discussing the issue many times, he knew what to expect from purebloods like them. James could remember visiting Diagon Alley with his mother to collect his school equipment and had met a few muggle-borns when waiting to get his wand. They may have been slightly nervous and jittery but still perfectly nice. There was no reason they wouldn't be; they were no different from him really. Only their families weren't magical.

He couldn't help but feel sorry for them, though. Living a life devoid of house-elves and Quidditch and magic and all the things that made James' world so brilliant must be awfully boring.

James wasn't worried about ever being sorted into Slytherin. Though he was a pureblood, he shared none of the same ideas that lot had. He was sure the house awaiting him was Gryffindor, just as it had been for both of his parents, and many of his other relatives. In his mind, there was no doubt he'd get what he wanted. He always did.

In his absence, the conversation had moved on to a less interesting topic, schoolwork. Having no idea what classes were like yet – and no real interest in finding out – James conceded that he wouldn't be able to have much input into the discussion now. Fantastic, he though with a bitter sigh, that leaves only another six or so hours to go. Apparently, the dark haired boy across from him felt the same. With a bored sigh and a roll of his eyes, he turned away to look out the window at the departing city.

James took this as his cue to strike.

"I don't know what those others were on about before but there is no way the new Cleansweep model could outstrip a Nimbus one thousand and five, don't you think?"

The boy looked up at him with raised eyebrows, surprised and cautious but certainly curious. James decided to plough on.

"I mean, it could probably beat anything in the Comet line and it'd definitely be faster than that Shooting Star thing they released last year, but seriously, nothing can beat a Nimbus."

"I've heard that most of the international sides in Europe have ordered the Lightning two eighty for the next world cup, not the Nimbus," the boy said with a smile, happily rising to the challenge of a debate.

"Well, sure," James continued, "but that's only been released in Spain so far and everyone knows you can't trust Spanish broom makers."

Both boys grinned at each other as their discussion continued. James whooped silently in triumph, maybe the train ride wouldn't be so bad after all.

So caught up in conversation, he didn't noticed the greasy, dark haired boy that entered the compartment and joined the quiet redhead by the window.

* * *

Peter Pettigrew watched as the two dark haired boys continued their discussion on who would win the next world cup and listened, enthralled. They certainly made a good pair. James, he remembered his name was, was small and skinny, dark hair sticking up in all directions and round glasses lopsided on his grinning face. The other boy, Sirius he had introduced himself as, was taller and far more refined, pale with sleek, ink-black hair, lounging casually in his seat looking for all the world as if he owned the whole train.

They were not the sort of people Peter thought he'd ever be sitting with. And yet, here he was, sharing a compartment with them.

Whatever they were, Peter was the utter opposite. Short, dumpy and blonde, and not exactly overly bright, he knew he was the perfect target for bullying from boys like them. However, they hadn't said a single mean thing to him. No cruel names, no "tubby" or "lard boy" or "Piggy Pettigrew" like the children back home called him. No jibes at his weight or height or the slightly buckteeth that came from sucking his thumb until he was ten. To an outsider, it might even look like Peter was friends with these cool and confident boys.

He just hoped they would never find out the truth about him.

He hoped they would never have to see his failed attempts at schoolwork, or his disgrace on the sports field. He prayed they wouldn't find out that his father was a muggle-born, because these boys were obvious purebloods. And he desperately hoped they wouldn't realise just how much he idolised people like them, how much he looked up to them, how much he wished he could be them.

James and Sirius laughed loudly at something one of them had said and he remembered the incident with that greasy Severus boy from before. They had been so brilliant, so funny and smart and self-assured; Peter only wished he could be half as great as they were. James had said he was going to be in Gryffindor, sounded so sure of it, and really, with his obvious talent and confidence there wasn't any doubt about it.

Please, let me be in Gryffindor with him, Peter thought fervently, wishing harder than he ever had before. Please.

* * *

As the train sped along, an angry, red beast surging through the hilly, green countryside, it finally began to rain. The grey clouds that had loomed threateningly over the land had at last broken and released their load upon the world beneath them. Droplets splattered against the windowpane, shattering into thousands of tiny mirror-like shards that disappeared in the engine's slipstream. Remus watched as moisture made tracks down the glass, counted the drips that fell from the window latch where the water gathered.

It was only testimony to how bored he was that this is what Remus had been reduced to doing.

Massaging his temples, he pressed his pounding head against the cool glass. Hours of constant reading so early in the morning would give anyone a headache, even such an avid reader as Remus. It was a rather depressing and humbling experience to realise that even his books had their faults. With another sigh, he shut his eyes, fully prepared to try to sleep the rest of the way to Hogwarts.

"Um, hi," a small voice said from the compartment door. "Can we sit here, please? We've spent ages trying to find somewhere but everywhere else is completely full."

Remus didn't bother responding, or even looking up. After all, it wasn't as if he was alone in here anymore. By the time the Hogwarts Express had left the Station, a handful of people had joined the compartment. He was sure they hadn't known each other previously, but by the way they had been carrying on, delightedly buying one of everything off the food trolley that had come around, shrieking with a mixture of fright and absolute joy when the pictures on their Chocolate Frogs cards moved, it was obvious they were all muggle-born first years.

Moreover, the rookie mistake of not realising Bertie Bott really meant it when he said "_every_ flavour bean" had been a dead giveaway.

Remus hadn't really spoken to them beyond answering a few of the vague, awkward questions strangers often posed for each other. He wasn't sure his nerves would allow him to make intelligent conversation without saying something he really shouldn't. The warning his father had given him before they had left home, early that morning, rang clear in his mind: "Make acquaintances if you must, but don't make friends. If people get too close they'll find out about you, and everything will be ruined." So, Remus had said nothing and continued reading, wishing, not for the first time, that this train ride would just end.

"Hi," the same voice said again and, this time, Remus did look up. The two newcomers that had entered the compartment had taken the open seats across from him. The one that spoke to him was a skinny, pretty girl with dark red hair and startling green eyes. She was smiling at him, an infectious smile that made Remus feel guilty for not responding in kind.

Her friend was not nearly so welcoming. His hair was lank and greasy and a few years past the need for a trim, his skin so sickly pale Remus was sure the boy had never even heard of sunlight, let alone been outside in it. He had already changed into his school robes and they hung from his rounded shoulders like great, black wings. He looked decidedly twitchy, dark eyes darting about the room uncomfortably, and Remus saw the sneer he threw at one of the muggle-borns as they excitedly examined their new Chocolate Frog card. Probably a pureblood, Remus thought to himself, and not necessarily the good kind.

The girl was talking again. "I'm Lily," she introduced herself, "and this is Severus. Are you a first year, too?"

Remus nodded.

She drew herself up to ask another question but was pulled into conversation by one of the other students. Somewhat relieved about being saved from making small talk, Remus turned back to the window, watching the countryside roll by and his quiet, solitary life fall further and further behind.

* * *

Time passed in what seemed a monotonously slow manner and outside, it continued to rain. Feeling uncharacteristically claustrophobic and restless, Remus wished for nothing more than the chance to stretch his legs, but the train merely surged on across the darkening country.

The conversation that floated around him from the other students was everything he had expected it would be, from anecdotes about their magical experiences, to what their wands were made of, to what they thought they should expect upon arrival at Hogwarts. Remus himself knew very little of that despite that his father had gone there when he was younger. All he knew was awaiting him was a sorting of some kind where he would be placed into one of the four school houses he would stay with for the next seven years. Or however long he remained there.

"What was it like for you?"

Startled, Remus looked up. The redhead, Lily, was watching him expectantly. Remus flushed.

"Pardon?"

She smiled. "What was it like for you when you got your Hogwarts letter?"

Remus blinked several times in quick succession and answered without thinking, "Um, we were surprised, I suppose."

"Oh, so you're a muggle-born too?"

Realising what he had said, Remus quickly turned away to hide the pained look that rose on his face as he berated at himself.

"Half-blood," he said very quietly, flipping his book open again and very deliberately ducking behind the pages.

"He was probably a late bloomer," said another voice. "His parents probably thought he didn't have enough magic in him to get in."

Remus glanced up and saw Lily's dark haired friend sneer at him. Lily shifted uncomfortably in her seat and glanced apologetically at Remus.

For his part, Remus wasn't offended. He had heard far worse.

"No, I showed magic fairly young," he replied, his tone mild as he looked down at his book again, "But it stopped after a while. My parents thought I'd outgrown it."

The boy scoffed, an incredulous expression rising on his sallow features. "People don't _outgrow_ magic. That's just a myth."

Remus merely shrugged and continued reading. He had no idea whether it was possible or not, he just wanted to avoid an altercation. Apparently, the other boy didn't feel the same, but before he could respond, Lily cut across him, saying, "Leave it, Sev."

As conversation started up again, they both turned away.

* * *

Beyond the windowpane, the world was growing darker, the rain waning to a misty drizzle. As he leant against the glass, staring but not seeing at the words on the pages in front him, Remus' mind wandered. He smirked to himself as he recalled what it had been like when he was accepted into Hogwarts. Surprise didn't really cover it.

From the moment he was old enough to understand, his father had told him that it was unreasonable to ever expect an invitation to join any magic school and Remus had accepted that. The reason was obvious. Turning eleven hadn't marked anything significant as it often did for other children of magical upbringing because, for Remus, there was no Hogwarts to be excited about going to. The joint shock the Lupin family had felt when, at the beginning of August, Albus Dumbledore had arrived on their doorstep and asked to speak with Remus alone was understandable.

They spoke quietly for a few minutes before the Hogwarts headmaster finally broached the reason for his visit. "Remus, why do you think I'm here?" he said to him, sitting in a seat he had conjured for himself out of midair, his brightly eccentric robes looking alien and out of place in Remus' small, Spartan bedroom.

"You're here to tell me I can't go to Hogwarts," the boy had replied, staring at his knees rather than at the wise, old face before him. "But it's alright. I've always known I wouldn't be able to because I'm… because of what I am. I didn't expect you to come here personally to tell me, though. It's very kind of you."

He remembered Dumbledore frowning, watching Remus with sad blue eyes. "You're a very thoughtful and intelligent young man, Remus," he replied, his voice gentle, a smile hidden behind his words. "I'm thankful then, that even the smartest of us are wrong at times."

With those words he had reached beneath his robes and withdrawn the thick, parchment envelope that Remus was sure had changed his life forever.

He had been excited, ecstatic even, at that moment, but now, more than anything, Remus felt scared. He had no illusions about how his life would turn out; he was werewolf. That was it. However normal he pretended to be, that was always going to be the only constant in his life. Dumbledore had been confident that his lycanthropy wouldn't be an issue so long as he didn't tell any other students. There was a safe house arranged for him, away from any living being, where he could transform, and he had been told the school nurse was willing to care for him afterwards. Though he still wasn't sure of the specifics, at the time Remus had been brimming with confidence it would work. Now however, he wasn't so sure.

How was he supposed to avoid suspicion for seven years when, once a month, he would disappear for a few days and return looking as though he had been trampled by a herd of angry hippogriffs, which, he though mordantly, would probably be preferable to the truth? How was he supposed to lie to the people he lived with everyday? How was he supposed to keep himself from slipping up and revealing things about his condition when already, before school had even started, he'd nearly done exactly that? On that note, what about the consequences if he was found out? Not only would he be expelled and exposed to the entire world, but Dumbledore, the man who had given him this opportunity, who had stuck his neck out to give him a chance when no one else was willing to, may have to deal with the repercussions as well. He could be made to step down from his post as headmaster, could be forced from the school he had done so much for.

Remus shook himself. Panicking wasn't going to help anything and would only serve to make him more anxious. His father had spent the past month making sure he knew what to do to keep from being discovered. All he had to do was avoid close friendships with people, watch what he said around others and make sure he did nothing to stand out. Make sure all people ever saw was insignificant, utterly uninteresting, little Remus Lupin. It shouldn't be too hard; the reality wasn't really much of a stretch.

Quite suddenly, the hum of the engine was disturbed by a disembodied voice that could be heard up and down the train. It echoed throughout the compartment, saying, "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes time. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school separately."

The others in the compartment all climbed to their feet, conversation now buzzing with excitement, and reached into their trunks for their black school robes. Remus followed example, quickly shrugging the long, slightly faded robes on over his clothes, trying to ignore the slightly contemptuous smirk Lily's friend Severus threw at him as he did so. As the train began to slow, his stomach gave a peculiar lurch.

He looked out the window at the dark, misty realm beyond. Through the drizzle that blurred the air and made it seem as though he was looking at the world through a screen of static, he caught his first glimpse of the castle that would become a home to him. Perched upon its cliff overlooking the great lake and forest surrounding it, windows glinting with beckoning lights, turrets and towers reaching high into the inky sky, was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Remus couldn't contain the broad smile that spread across his face.

_To be continued…_

_

* * *

__A/N: And, done. Or, at least, to be continued. Thank you everyone who has read this, and thank you even more to the people who have enjoyed it (I pray there are some)._

_I am reasonably fond of this chapter, specifically the start of it. I enjoyed swapping between the four boys, and I tried to do them all justice. Most of the rest of what I've written is strictly from Remus' point of view, so it was a fun way to start, to show how all the others think and feel, even if only for a brief moment. There are some chapters where I change it up and make it from one of the other boy's view point (so far only Sirius and James... Peter might get a chapter at some point but he is obviously a rather polarising character and don't want to put anyone off)._

_I took the name from a Bob Dylan song, the meaning of which (if I bastardize it a bit and allow for a healthy dose of writer's license) fits the basic idea of the chapter, new beginnings and whatnot. Plus, it's a nice song._

_That is all for now. The next update won't be for a while. I'm just starting a new job, and then uni starts back up again at the end of February, and I'm not writing nearly as much as I should be (seriously, I haven't finished a single chapter in a year... its kind of disgusting actually). But, excuses, excuses, I should update in a couple of weeks. Should._

_Until then, cheerio! Pip pip!_


	3. Chapter I: Part II: Sorting it Out

_A/N: I'm back, yay!_

_Sorry for the delay, I promise I did intend to upload sooner. But I also intended to try and finish my new chapter before uploading this one, but that didn't happen. In my defence, I have just started a new job and uni is only a week away from starting up again and so I have other things on my mind. But, excuses excuses. I figured I'd try and use this chapter and any feedback I get for it as motivation to write more new stuff, and get my mind back on important things, like HP :D_

_To 101EmilyRox, laurkenobi and Rue-the-Marauder, I give my thanks for their kind words on the first chapter._

_I fear there may be grammatical errors and the like in this chapter, so if you spot any, tell me please and I'll sort them out. I'm anal enough that publishing a chapter with mistakes will worry me._

_So, here it is. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Of Wolf and Man**

**Chapter I**

**Part II**

Sorting it Out

_In which our main protagonist discovers some previously unacknowledged inner courage and is introduced to several significant others._

The night was dark but the sky was beginning to clear; the rain had thinned leaving just a fine mist hanging in the air. Hogsmeade Station appeared dark, damp and dreary next to the scarlet steam engine that pulled up, slick with moisture and gleaming under weak lamp light.

Remus stepped down onto the wet stones of the platform, body taught with nerves as he was battered about by the crowd of students. The noise around him was absolute and dizzying, making it all the more difficult to work out where it was he was supposed to be going. He was thankful for the booming voice that somehow managed to meet his ears over the noise, calling, "Firs' years, this way! Firs' years!"

Stumbling through the sea of black robes that filled the small, cramped platform, Remus made his way towards the voice and the bobbing lamp that hung over the heads of the students. He jolted with surprise at the person he found standing beneath it.

He was by far the largest person the boy had ever seen, towering over the children that gathered around him, gazing down at them through a thick, bushy beard and the tangled hair that hung about his face. If it weren't for the small, dark eyes that peered kindly down at the first years, Remus may have been afraid of this giant of a man.

"Right then, all the firs' years here?" the large man said as the final student arrived. He looked around and smiled at them all. "The name's Hagrid an' I am the gamekeeper here at Hogwarts. I'll be takin' yeh lot up to the castle by boat. C'mon then, all of yeh, follow me."

Hagrid set off away from the station, leading them down a steep and narrow path through dark trees. It was hard work trying to keep from slipping on the slick ground and nobody spoke, every one of the students buzzing with nervous energy. Before long, the path widened out to a small bay on the edge of the vast lake Remus had seen from the train. A fleet of small boats was moored on the shore, waiting for their passengers.

"An' that is Hogwarts," Hagrid said proudly, pointing upwards towards the castle towering over them atop its craggy cliff. Many of the students ooh-ed and ahh-ed appreciatively, gazing up in wonderment.

"In the boats then, all of yeh. No more'n four to a boat," the giant man continued and the first years obeyed, clambering in.

Remus found himself sharing with Lily and her dark haired friend, Severus, both looking pale and nervous, still staring avidly up at the castle. Another of the first year muggle-borns from the train came and sat with them, a narrow faced, brown haired boy who had introduced himself as Alex and had offered Remus a Chocolate Frog earlier in the day. Alex smiled at them and gave a quiet, jittery laugh when the boats all shoved off from the shore with a bellowed command from Hagrid.

The rocking motion of the boat did nothing to calm Remus' stomach, which protested every movement he made. He felt physically ill. As he looked out over the infinitely dark waters of the lake, watching the tiny ripples plucked up by the drizzling rain, he couldn't help but worry about the sorting ceremony waiting ahead. What house would he be in? His father had been in Ravenclaw, so that was a possibility. But what were the other houses like? He was a werewolf; where on earth would that put him? Slytherin, he thought, suddenly. Slytherins were more often associated with dark magic than any other house, where better to place a dark creature?

He couldn't help gulping at the thought. Though he tried to remain unprejudiced, Remus knew the sort of reputation Slytherin had. Try as he might to deny it, the idea of being one of them frightened him.

"Heads down!" Hagrid roared suddenly as the boats reached the cliff upon which Hogwarts was built. Plunging them through a screen of bitterly cold water and into complete blackness, the boat continued along a tunnel within the cliff, winding through the darkness until they came to a stop in a small underground bay.

Lurching out of his boat that fell back into the water with a relieved splash, Hagrid stepped out onto the pebbly beach, the students following suit. Shivering, wet and cold, Remus and the other first years followed the giant man up a passage and out onto the flat, grassy field that lay before the great, oak doors of Hogwarts. They mounted the stairs towards the doors and Hagrid reached out a huge hand, knocking three times on the woods before standing back as they opened, immediately.

Silhouetted by the flaming light of the wall-mounted torches inside, stood a tall witch with square glasses, dressed in severe emerald robes. Her dark hair was pulled back into a tight bun and she stared down at the first years with a stern expression.

"Here yeh are, Professor McGonagall. Yer new batch o' firs' years." Hagrid proudly nodded and beamed around.

"Thank you, Hagrid," the woman said to him before facing the students. "Follow me, please."

The first years followed Professor McGonagall past Hagrid and into the enormous Entrance Hall that glittering with light, a great staircase facing them, leading high up into the school. McGonagall however lead them into a small chamber off to the side where she turned to face them.

"Welcome," she said, "to Hogwarts. The start of term banquet is about to begin, but before you can take your seats in the Great Hall; you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room."

Remus got the feeling that this was a very practised speech. Professor McGonagall continued.

"The four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as best as you can while you are waiting."

Remus told himself she wasn't looking directly at him as she said that.

"I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly." And with that, she swept from the room.

Around him, students began frantically straightening their robes, flattening their hair, desperately asking everyone around them for help and advice. Several had gone so far as to pull out their wands and were desperately trying to cast any sort of spell as if expecting a test of some kind. Remus was sure that wasn't what was waiting for them – at least, he hoped it wasn't.

Shaking the loose droplets of water from his sandy hair, he ran his fingers through it to keep it from falling in front of his eyes like it always did. He had never felt so nervous in his life. Standing nearby, Lily was chewing her fingernails, green eyes flicking about the room, while next to her, Severus had his eyes scrunched shut and was muttering under his breath. Remus was sure he was saying the same word, over and over again: "Slytherin. Slytherin. Slytherin. Slytherin."

Swallowing heavily, Remus admitted to himself that Slytherin wasn't the worst that could happen. What if there was no house for werewolves? What if he had to turn around and go straight back home because no one wanted a werewolf living with them? And honestly, who would?

The doors to the chamber opened and Professor McGonagall stood before them again. Remus swore he felt what colour was left leave his face.

"The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin," she said, once the students had fallen quiet. "Form a single line and follow me."

She directed them out into the Entrance Hall again and through the doors leading into the Great Hall of Hogwarts.

The air was filled with thousands of candles suspended above the black-clad students seated at four long tables bedecked with golden plates and cutlery and goblets. Far above them there was no ceiling but seemingly open sky, stars winking down at them from a bed of deepest black, the nearly full moon watching from behind a layer of cloud.

At the far end of the hall was another table where the teachers sat. As the first years walked towards them, Remus saw Albus Dumbledore seated in the centre of the table, his long silver beard glittering in the candlelight, his robes a rich and vibrant crimson, half-moon glasses slipping down his long, crooked nose. He smiled at them as they lined up across the hall, facing the other students with their backs to the staff. Scattered throughout the hall, Remus could see the pearly-white faces of what appeared to be ghosts seated at the tables to watch the Sorting. At any other time, Remus would have been excited to see them, but as it was, he barely registered them at all.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward and positioned a four-legged stool in front of the first years before placing on top of it a patched and frayed wizard's hat. She stood back and watched it, as did every other person in the hall. Unsure what was going to happen, Remus jumped as suddenly a rip near the brim opened like a mouth and a song burst forth from it:

"I beg of you, don't be afraid

As I begin to sing,

For I have need to tell you of

A most important thing.

Here at Hogwarts you've arrived

To learn and work and grow,

But before that you all must hear

A story that I know.

Long ago, in days of yore

There lived four wizards grand,

The founders of this magic school;

The greatest in the land.

Bold Gryffindor, the brave and strong,

A man of noble courage.

Wise Ravenclaw, a woman of

Unrivalled wit and knowledge.

Shrewd Slytherin, a cunning man

Of slyness and of smarts.

Sweet Hufflepuff, with patience and

The kindest of all hearts.

For assistance and wise counsel

Were these four always sought,

For they would help all those in need

Without a second thought.

But with vast amounts of knowledge

And magic in their heads,

The four decided they would pass

Their teachings on instead.

Thus was Hogwarts founded

And in the students came

To be taught by these great sorcerers

Of power, wit and fame.

Within these walls they did divide

Their pupils into houses;

Four separate groups, specialised

To suit each of the founders.

And that, dear children, is my task:

To split up all of you,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting hat

And that is what I do."

Whatever it was Remus had been expecting, a singing hat most certainly wasn't it. He paled at the thought of how long it would have taken to make up a song like that, but then, what else was a magical hat supposed to do with its spare time. As the students and staff burst into tumultuous applause, the hat bowed to each of the tables in turn before sitting motionless again, waiting. Standing next to it, Professor McGonagall looked up from the long roll of parchment she was holding to talk to the first years.

"When I call your name, you will sit on the stool and put on the hat to be sorted," she said to them.

Remus cast a quick eye around him. Everyone seemed to be thinking the same as he was: why, oh why did they have to do this with the entire school watching? McGonagall however, didn't seem to care.

"Aitkin, Jeremy!" she called.

A dumpy, mousy boy hurried forward and sat down while McGonagall placed the hat on his head. Several moments later, the rip near the brim of the hat opened again and it cried out, "RAVENCLAW!"

The table left of the centre burst into applause and the boy went to them, collapsing into his seat.

"Anderson, Alexander!"

The boy who had shared a boat with Remus jolted and stepped forward. The hat was on his head for a few seconds before it shouted; "HUFFLEPUFF!" and the boy stumbled away to the centre right table.

"Bates, Edwin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Behrman, Raquel!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

The table on the far right of the hall clapped and cheered as the auburn haired girl sashayed over to them to sit down. Was that really the house awaiting him, Remus pondered. It certainly didn't sound like him if the sorting hat's song was anything to go by. But then, what _did_ sound like him?

"Black, Sirius!"

A tall, dark haired boy walked calmly to the stool and McGonagall placed the hat on his head. He almost looked depressed about it. Turning away, Remus looked to the enchanted ceiling once more and stared at the moon looking down at him. For a brief moment, he wondered if he could possibly be sorted not according to his lycanthropy, if for once he wouldn't be judged according to _what_he was but _who_.

It took him a few moments to register what was amiss in the hall before he realised Sirius Black had been sitting on the stool for nearly a minute now. Glancing around, everyone else was watching in rapt curiosity. Sirius himself was squirming in his seat, frowning and looking up at the hat in apparent disbelief. It was another few moments before the hat seemed to finally make its decision.

"GRYFFINDOR!" it shouted.

There was no applause at first, but rather a stunned silence. Even the staff looked baffled. Remus knew why. His father had told him about the Blacks, one of the oldest, proudest and most prejudice pureblood families around. Their feelings towards muggles and muggle-borns alike were common knowledge. As was the fact that the lot of them had been in Slytherin for generations. It was certainly a shock to see a Black sorted into Gryffindor, the house with which Slytherin had had a long-standing enmity.

The table on the far left had finally started clapping and Sirius moved towards them slowly, staring dumbly at the ground. At Slytherin table on the other side of the hall, Remus could see a group of older students muttering together, suspicious glares thrown across the hall to where the boy had taken his seat.

The sorting continued as McGonagall called the next name on her list; "Evans, Lily!" As the redhead girl stepped forward, Remus saw her dark haired friend watch her, tensely. The hat was only on the girl's head for a few seconds before it gave its answer.

"GRYFFINDOR!" it cried.

Remus heard Severus's heavy sigh over the applause from Gryffindor table.

Student upon student was called out and all the while Remus was aware how close they were drawing to his name. Penelope Grey became a Hufflepuff. Fleming Harris and Doris Helens both joined Ravenclaw.

"Hughes, Timothy!" McGonagall called and moments later the small, pale boy hurried over to Hufflepuff.

Bronwyn Hutchens and Gordon Kerr both became Slytherins. Then, the name Collette Lewis was called. They were already at the L's. Remus' heart skipped a beat, silence flooding his senses as Collette Lewis moved off to Gryffindor table amidst muted cheers and clapping. His hands were shaking. His heart was beating in his throat and felt as though it was choking him. His stomach felt ready to drop through his feet as Daniela Lin placed the hat on her head before hurrying away to Ravenclaw.

Then "Remus Lupin" was called.

Remus felt rather than saw the tensing of every single teacher in the room as they recognised his name. He stepped forward out of line and slowly walked towards Professor McGonagall, trying to read the strange expression on her face. She looked as though Remus wasn't at all what she'd expected he'd be. He wasn't surprised. He realised how pathetic he must look: short, skinny and pale, forget wet and completely terrified. He couldn't have been further from their idea of a werewolf.

Before taking his seat on the plain, wooden stool, Remus chanced a look at Professor Dumbledore. The headmaster was leaning forward, his chin perched on arched fingers, eyes narrowed as he watched the boy over his half-moon spectacles. There was a sort of ominous curiosity in his bright blue eyes.

Finally taking his seat, McGonagall hesitated for only a moment before placing the hat on his head.

It was all over before Remus understood what had happened.

As the brim of the hat fell over his eyes, a small voice whispered in his head. "Hmm, a werewolf. Well, no doubt about it, is there?" it said, then,

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Barely seconds after she had placed it on his head, McGonagall whipped the hat back off, unable to control the surprise evident on her face. Moving in a stunned kind of trance, Remus followed the clapping over the table on the far left, taking the seat Lily Evans made for him without realising what he was doing. He was in Gryffindor. The hat hadn't placed him in Slytherin. Werewolf or not, it hadn't even hesitated for a moment. What had it said? There was "no doubt about it". For the first time in what seemed like years, Remus smiled, completely blown away.

He looked up at the High Table and at Professor Dumbledore now watching Mary Macdonald as she was sorted. He was sure he wasn't imagining the rather satisfied smile lurking on the headmaster's lips, but had no idea what it was supposed to mean.

As Mary Macdonald came over to join Gryffindor table as well, Lily smiled at Remus.

"Isn't it funny how it's quick for some people and not for others?" she said. "I never thought I was particularly brave or strong but the hat seemed to think so."

"Yeah," Remus agreed quietly, now watching as Michelle Martin also made her way to Gryffindor table. I know what you mean, he thought to himself.

The rest of the sorting passed in a blur and three more people joined their table: Peter Pettigrew, who had sat on the stool for well over a minute, James Potter, who spent longer under the hat than he had obviously thought he would have, and Annabel Scott, who took about as long. When barely a handful of people were left, Severus Snape's name was called out. He moved off to join Slytherin seconds later. Remus alone had heard the small, upset sound Lily had made as her friend moved to the other side of the hall.

When finally, Elsie Windom hurried over to the Ravenclaw table and McGonagall had carried the hat and stool away, Professor Dumbledore stood up. The hall fell silent immediately and he smiled widely, beaming down proudly at them all.

"Welcome, all of you, to another year at Hogwarts," he said loudly and joyfully. "I will not bore you with words just yet, other than to say this: eat up!"

With a flourish of his hand that Remus was sure was unnecessary – though effective nonetheless – food filled the tables of the Great Hall. Amidst the clapping and cheering of the students, Remus couldn't help but gape at what had appeared before him. He had never seen anything like it. There was every kind of food he could have thought of, roasts, chops, sausages, steaks, all kinds of vegetables, whatever condiments he could have asked for. While he had never been short on food at home, this made what he had been living off look like rations.

Filling his plate with a helping of whatever first took his fancy; Remus turned his attention to listening to the conversation of the other first years. He discovered that Lily and Mary Macdonald were the only muggle-borns and Peter Pettigrew and he the only half-bloods. Collette Lewis and Michelle Martin belonged to pureblood parents but had fairly close relatives who were muggles. James Potter and Annabel Scott were also purebloods, but magic had been in their families for longer. No one bothered asking Sirius Black about his parentage, in fact, no one said much to him at all. He sat staring at his plate, shifting his food around with his fork without eating much, chewing his lip in what was an obviously worried gesture. Remus was sure he saw James cast him a few guilty looks before turning away again.

As everyone finished eating as much as they could, the food vanished, their plates left as clean as when they had found them. The bowls on the table then suddenly refilled, this time with desserts: ice cream, cakes, tarts, pies, fruit; every kind of pudding Remus was sure there was.

"What class are most looking forward to?" Lily asked from beside Remus while she helped herself to strawberries and cream. "Mr Ollivander at the wand store said that my wand should be good for Charms and that seems fun, don't you think?"

"Um, yes," Remus replied, quietly.

"And I'm looking forward to Potions, I've always liked cooking."

Remus just nodded.

"But really, everything sounds so exciting; I just hope I'm not terrible. I really know nothing about magic."

Lily was exceedingly good at holding a one-sided conversation. It wasn't as if he wasn't paying attention, he just wasn't used to this much conversation. The tiny cottage in the woods where his parents had brought him up wasn't exactly a thriving hub of activity. Though they had some contact with the small muggle town nearby, Remus had never been to school or even known another child his own age. The intensely private environment in which he'd been raised hadn't exactly sharpened his social skills and – combined with a natural shyness – Remus found conversation with normal human beings rather an awkward experience.

"Its pretty funny, really," Lily was saying. "I used to use magic all the time before I knew what it was, but I don't know anything about it. It used to annoy my sister so much." Her face suddenly grew glum at the mention of her sister and though Remus didn't know why, he didn't think he should pry.

"I hope I am good at magic. I don't know any of the theory or anything like that, like how it works and all. I'm probably pretty far behind being a muggle-born," she said, staring sadly into her dessert bowl.

"No one really knows anything about magic at our age," Remus replied softly, "Even purebloods. That's sort of the whole idea of coming to school and learning. Besides, it sounds like you know more than me and my father's a wizard."

Lily looked up and smiled at him, the same infectious smile he'd seen on the train. This time, he reciprocated, finding it easier to do now that his nerves had calmed down.

She laughed suddenly. "You know, I think that's the most you've said all day," she said, grinning. "It's good to know you can talk when it matters."

Remus blushed and smiled sheepishly. Lily merely laughed again.

As everyone finished their desserts and the food faded away once more, Dumbledore rose to his feet again. Once everyone had fallen silent, he began to speak.

"Now, before you go off to the comfort of your beds, I have a few notices for you all to hear. For all our new first years, you should know that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils, a rule that, I assure you, is in place for your own safety. As always, I remind you that magic in the corridors between classes is strictly prohibited. Mr Pringle, the caretaker, would be most grateful if, for the first year ever, this rule might be followed. Also, you may find a list of the magical items forbidden in the castle posted on Mr Pringle's door.

"Finally, all students should be aware that over the summer, a Whomping Willow tree was planted on the school grounds. This is a very valuable but dangerous tree and, again for your own safety, should not be approached by anyone."

A quiet buzzing filled the room as students whispered to each other, all asking the same question: if the tree was so dangerous, why plant it at all? Remus couldn't help but agree. The mumbling quieted down as the headmaster spoke again.

"That is all, then. Now, it's bedtime for all of us I think, so off you go. Sleep tight." He beamed down at them again.

"Gryffindor first years, over here please!" a voice called from further down the table as the rest of the students stood up to depart. Remus and the others followed the voice down and found two older students, a girl and a boy, waiting for them. They both wore red and golden badges pinned to their chests baring the letter 'P'. The girl, who had long sunny hair and an equally sunny grin, spoke first.

"Hi there," she said with a cheery wave. "I'm Anne Rodgers and this," she indicated to the lanky, black boy who stood next to her, smiling slightly at them, "Is Kingsley Shacklebolt. We're the fifth year Gryffindor prefects. If you follow us we'll show you how to get to the common room and the dormitories."

They set off quickly, the first years trotting obediently behind as they walked through the Entrance Hall and up the marble staircase opposite the front doors. Many of the students were yawning and dragging their feet. As the two prefects lead them higher and higher into the castle, Remus couldn't believe the sheer enormity of it. There were secret passageways everywhere, staircases that moved, hallways that went no-where, trick steps and fake doors, all of which Kingsley and Anne pointed out to them along the way. Remus tried to take in everything they said or he was sure he'd never be able to find his way back down again. But as they twisted and turned through corridors and over another set of moving staircases, he resigned himself to the fate of never knowing his way around this school.

They finally came to a stop before a painting of a large woman in a pink dress hanging at the very end of a corridor. She looked down at them, imperiously.

"Password?" she asked, slowly. Mary and Lily both gasped, apparently having not noticed the magical way in which the other portraits and paintings around the school moved and spoke.

"Jobberknoll," Kingsley replied, his voice cracking slightly, and the portrait swung open revealing a small entranceway. Following the prefects in, the first years found themselves in a snug, round room filled with comfortable armchairs and window seats and a warm, flickering fire.

Anne turned to talk to them. "You need to remember the password in order to get into the common room. It changes every month or so, but you'll be told in advance so don't worry. And if you ever do forget the password, just come find a Gryffindor prefect and we'll help you out. We all wear these." She pointed to her red and gold badge.

"Boys' dorms are up the spiral staircase to the left, girls' are on the right," Kingsley took over for her. "Your things should already be there."

"Again, if you need anything, come ask us," Anne said, smiling cheerfully again. "Off to bed then, good night."

The two prefects waved them off, Remus following behind the other three boys, the girls disappearing up their own stairs. At the top, they found a door with 'First Year Boys' written on it in golden writing and entered.

The dormitory was just as cosy as the common room below, four-poster beds for each of them spaced out around the walls of the round room, hangings a rich crimson velvet. Their trunks were all stacked against the wall. While the others were looking around, Remus quickly dragged his case over to the bed on the far side of the dorm, closest to the bathroom and sat down on the mattress. James took the bed next to his, Peter on the other side of James, leaving Sirius on the far side of the room to Remus.

None of the boys spoke as they changed into their pyjamas, all too tired and full of food to say anything. Remus did notice James cast another sidelong look at Sirius, but didn't think anything of it. His mind was busy with other things.

Everything seemed too good to be true. He was at Hogwarts, placed in a well respected house, and he was going to learn magic, just as he had always wanted. He shook his head and pinched his arm rather hard, trying to prove to himself it wasn't just a dream. After all, it wouldn't be the first time.

The other boys were all in bed by now, hangings drawn around them. Numbly, Remus did the same, crawling under the covers before closing the curtains and shutting out all light. He lay still on his back and stared up into the darkness. He was almost afraid to go to sleep, worried that he may wake up to find himself back in his bed at home, to find that everything had, in fact, been a dream.

Don't be stupid, he told himself, shaking his head. He rubbed at his eyes, rolled onto his side, and waited for sleep to come.

* * *

_A/N: There we go, Remus is officially at Hogwarts! Happy happy, joy joy. I hope you liked my sorting ceremony. One of the few things that I have written that I am genuinely proud of is my sorting hat song. It's nothing special, but I think it works in a similar vein to Rowlings' ones, and I'm happy with how it came out._

_Unfortunately, there is a lot else in this chapter that I am unhappy with. I've done my best to edit and rewrite parts, but unfortunately I wrote it so long ago, the parts that I am unhappy with are too big and difficult to change without redoing the entire thing. So I've done my best to fix it up, but it definitely isn't one of my favourites._

_The one thing I do like is Kingsley. I don't know why, but I really like that dude, so including him here was fun. Making him a lanky, squeaky-voiced teenager was also fun. He hasn't quite grown into his bad-ass self yet. Give him time :D_

_I'll put the warning out now, this story is going to be very slow moving. I mean, VERY. I'm determined to include everything from first year onwards, meaning the real meaty parts of the storyline, the stuff that happens when Remus is older and the war is in full swing, won't be happened for a long time yet. I have them planned, but haven't even gotten close to writing them . As it stands, I'm trying to make each chapter interesting. Something of note will (or at least, should) happen in every new update. I don't want to discourage any reader, but I do have to put that warning out there._

_Oh, also, I'm reinstating something I started in my prologue. I really couldn't think of a good title for this chapter, so any suggestions would be hugely appreciated. Please!_

_Well, there we have it. Another chapter down. I hope you enjoyed it, and I would love for you to review. The next update will be... eventually. No promises. It could be days, weeks, hopefully not months. I will certainly try to update sometime before April._

_See you then!_


	4. Chapter II: Under the Waxing Moon

_A/N: Okay, new update! I thought, in honour of March 10th, Remus' birthday, I'd update. So here it is. Be aware, I have just spent the last few hours doing a MAJOR overhaul of a section in this chapter (took something out, added something in which means I'm going to have to rewrite sections in pretty much every chapter from here on out but... I think it's for the better) so if there are some problems in the middle, sorry._

_Well, here you go. Happy Birthday, Moony :D_

* * *

**Of Wolf and Man**

**Chapter II**

Under the Waxing Moon

_In which our main protagonist begins his education at Hogwarts and goes through the first of many transformations._

The first few days that Remus spent at Hogwarts were even more hectic than he'd expected they'd be. Between lessons and teachers and his new classmates, the full moon that was fast approaching was just one more thing to fret about. It was just his luck that his first transformation at Hogwarts occurred only days after school started.

The morning after the Sorting, he woke early from a night of detached and restless sleep, something he attributed only slightly to nerves and mostly to the encroaching full moon. He always slept badly in the days before his transformation.

The beginnings of birdsong were whistling in from outside, the first grey hues of light peaking through the gaps in his hangings. His mind was buzzing and leftover nerves from the day before were rattling around in his chest again. As the other boys began to stir, he quickly staggered out of bed and into the bathroom. He had changed into his uniform – complete with the Gryffindor colours – and was packing his bag before the others were out of bed.

James stumbled past him first, smiling slightly from beneath a messy shock of black hair. By the time he'd left the bathroom, Remus was packed and ready to go, wondering, as he stood by the door, if he should wait for his classmates or not. His father's warning rang in his head: "Don't make friends. If people get too close they'll find out about you, and everything will be ruined."

His father was right; Remus didn't need to take any unnecessary risks and friends were just that, risks. Swinging his bag up over his left arm, he hurried from the dorm.

The common room was empty and quiet as Remus passed through, pushing his way out the portal behind the Fat Lady's portrait. She squawked at him indignantly as he made his way down the corridor, berating him for being up so early and interrupting her beauty sleep.

He didn't trust himself to reply to that last comment.

Even though he'd paid careful attention the night before, it took him nearly half an hour to find his way back down to the Great Hall, taking several wrong turns and getting his foot caught in a particularly malicious trick step. He was also ambushed by a cackling, wicked-eyed ghost who hovered above him in mid air, pelting him with handfuls of leeches. He assumed this was Peeves, the school poltergeist. The two prefects last night had mentioned him, advising the first years to keep away from him if they could at all help it. Remus now knew why. He only managed to escape after his attacker ran out of ammunition and swooped off, laughing viciously as the boy picked the slimy, black slugs out of his hair.

Breakfast food was already set out when he arrived in the Great Hall.

He took a seat at the very end of the Gryffindor table and helped himself to a piece of toast, nibbling on its corner. Lack of appetite was one more symptom he suffered in the build up to a full moon. Glancing up at the enchanted ceiling, Remus watched the sky fade from grey to purple to palest blue as the sun rose on a clear horizon. The clouds had dissipated completely overnight, leaving the day bright and fine. He hoped that was a good omen.

The first of his fellow Gryffindor classmates that arrived were Mary Macdonald and Collette Lewis. He had noticed last night that the two blonde girls had become quick friends. As they sat down near him, giggling about whatever it is that girls giggle about, nerves were evidently the last things on their minds.

Lily arrived next and smiled in his direction, though he thought she looked rather pale beneath her fiery, red hair. With her was Annabel Scott, a diminutive girl with pitch-dark hair and eyes and remarkably fair skin, and Michelle Martin, a small girl with long, brown hair entered. They sat down with the other girls to eat, chatting happily, though all clearly jittery.

Suddenly, a cold brush of something against his elbow made Remus jump out of seat. Floating next to him, his pearly-white legs disappearing through the bench and the stone floor beneath it, was one of the ghosts he'd seen the night before. A tall ruff tickled the bottom of his wispy jaw, his hair curled and coifed to perfection. He chortled to himself as Remus took his seat again and forced his eyes back to their normal size.

"So sorry to startle you there," he said apologetically, though didn't sincerely sound it. After all, it was hard to find a ghost that didn't take some delight in frightening unsuspecting children. "I just thought I would come and introduce myself to the new batch of Gryffindors. I am Sir Nicolas de Mimsy-Porpington, the Gryffindor ghost. Pleased to meet you…?"

"Remus Lupin," the boy replied, still trying to catch his breath.

"Lupin, is it? Do you know John Lupin, perhaps? He was in Gryffindor himself, many years ago."

Remus nodded. "He was my grandfather," he said, picking up his toast again, but he found that his appetite had vanished completely now.

Sir Nicolas smiled happily, floating through the table to look at Remus from the other side. "Ah, yes, yes, I see the resemblance now. You have very similar eyes, you know," he said. "So, how is young John? Not so young anymore I assume."

Remus shifted in his seat. "Well… no, I suppose," he finally replied quietly, uncomfortably aware that the other students around them were listening now. "He died when I was little. Dragon Pox, I think."

"Oh dear, I am so very sorry." Sir Nicolas was shaking his head, tragically. "Death is such a sad thing. So very sad, indeed. It is the curse of my eternal existence that I must see all those around me fade away while I linger on, watching, a silent observer, the sole being who remembers them all."

Suddenly, in mid shake, his head toppled off onto his shoulder, attached to his neck by only a thin flap of skin. Remus was extremely thankful he'd stopped eating when he had.

"So sorry about that," Sir Nicolas said, sounding brisk but perfectly cheerful, tucking his neck back into the ruff of his shirt. From nearby, a sudden laugh was heard.

"So, _that's_ why they call you Nearly Headless Nick!" Annabel Scott exclaimed brightly. The other girls all laughed.

Nick on the other hand, was not so amused. "Oh yes, you may find it funny now. You try being partially beheaded by a blunt axe. It's positively ghastly." He sounded rather insulted. "And I prefer not to be known by that derogatory name, thank you very much."

With that, he floated away through the ceiling.

"Oh no," Annabel said, the expression on her face completely insincere, "I think I hurt his feelings."

The girls laughed again.

During his conversation with Nick, the other first year boys had shown up. Remus couldn't help but begrudge Sirius the way he wore his uniform with complete ease and grace, as though he'd been born wearing it. The dark haired boy in question sat away from other first years, staring broodingly into his breakfast the same way he had at dinner the night before.

James, who had taken a seat just down the row from Remus, was watching the other boy out of the corner of his eye. Seeing this, the chubby blonde boy next to him, Peter, asked what was wrong. Curious despite the nagging reasoning of his manners, Remus waited for a reply, trying to look inconspicuous and as though he wasn't eavesdropping.

"You know, yesterday, I thought he was an alright bloke. I didn't know he was a Black," James said, as though that explained everything. "My dad's told me all about the Blacks. They're bad news, you know. I mean, when he said his family has all been in Slytherin, I thought he meant just his parents and siblings and stuff. Not every blood relative he's ever had, going back generations."

"But, he's in Gryffindor," Peter replied. "That's got to mean something."

But James continued to watch the other boy with a flat stare.

"We'll see."

As students filled the hall, Professor McGonagall, the Head of Gryffindor House, arrived and came to hand out their timetables. Remus' nerves came back full force and he regretted eating what little breakfast he had.

* * *

The next few days seemed to pass in a blur. The combination of the anxiety that had burrowed deep into his stomach and the general lack of sleep had Remus on edge. For that reason alone, he was dreading his lessons. But meeting his teachers, who knew what he was, waiting for them to pass judgement on him, was not something he was looking forward to.

Dumbledore might have been accepting, but that kind of unbiased benevolence was rare, Remus knew that from experience. He dragged his feet as he made his way to his first class, feeling like an impostor in his new red and gold tie and Hogwarts crest, knots of anxiety twisting his abdomen, reminding him of the waxing moon, looming ever larger in the sky above.

The first class the Gryffindor first years had was History of Magic. It was the only subject in the whole school taught by a ghost, and the other students were buzzing about it. Five minute into the lesson, however, the entire class seemed to have changed their minds about Professor Binns. Being un-dead was the only interesting thing there was about the professor, and that novelty wore off fast. The subject might have even been interesting had it not been for Binns' droning monotone voice that promptly put Peter, Sirius and Annabel to sleep, while the rest of the classes passed notes or doodled absently on their parchment.

Despite that, Remus soon found the class quite a relief compared with some of the others; at least Binns treated him the same as he did every other student.

Of course, the teacher was so absent-minded Remus was surprised he managed to remember his own name, let alone who his students were.

Their first Potions lesson turned out to be considerably more eventful.

Upon arriving in the dank and rather creepy dungeons, Remus and his fellow first years were happily greeted and ushered inside by their Potions teacher, Professor Slughorn. He was one of the fattest men Remus had ever seen and stood barely higher than the first years themselves. His hair had thinned despite his best efforts to hide it, but he more than made up for it with the enormous moustache that buried his top lip in gingery-silver hair. As the students took their seats, he bustled around at the front of the class, beaming at his pupils, the polished buttons of his ruby red waistcoat gleaming in the torchlight.

Remus wasn't sure what to make of the Potions Professor. The man had no reaction when calling Remus' name out on the register other than to smile curiously at him, before setting the class to task brewing a simple potion that cured bad breathe. He had them working alone, which suited Remus fine, seated at a bench by himself at the back of the classroom. Pulling out his ingredients and equipment, he quickly got to work.

After nearly an hour, a potion was bubbling away happily, almost complete, in the small, pewter cauldron next to him. As he finished carefully weighing out the specific amount of duckweed he needed as his final step, Professor Slughorn appeared at his side.

"You, my lad, must be Remus," he said, jubilantly, bulging eyes twinkling. "You're infamous, you know? We've all been curious to meet you, all the staff that is. We all want to know the brave young soul daring to oppose all the prejudices and opinions. Oho! Brave you must be, look at you, under the hat for mere seconds before you were whisked away to Gryffindor."

Remus blinked several times in quick succession as Slughorn looked at him, expectantly.

"Er… I'm not trying to prove anything, sir. I just want the same things as everyone else…"

A momentary gleam of disappointment flashed in the Potions Master's eyes, but it vanished in an instant as he continued, "Ah, of course, you've an academic mind, nothing holding you back in your pursuit of knowledge and further education. There's definitely an ambitious streak in you, my young friend. You would have made quite the Slytherin. I am the Head of House, after all, and I have a knack for spotting talent like yours." He winked rather gaudily at him.

"And of course, you're the first of your kind to pass through Hogwarts, but you'll already know that," Slughorn continued, unfazed. "I'm sure your career here will be very interesting, Remus Lupin."

He peered into his cauldron at the potion brewing happily there. With a pleased smile and another wink, he waddled away, back to the front of the room. Remus stared after him, utterly flabbergasted. He certainly hadn't been expecting _that_ reaction.

His stomach gave a worried lurch. He wasn't supposed to attract attention to himself; he knew that was one of the most important things he had to do while here. But he had also never expected to garner _positive_ attention from his teachers _because_ of his condition.

Remus glanced down at his potion. The blue-green colour and the fresh smell of mint wafting from it were as the instructions described it should be. The final step of adding precisely three ounces of duckweed was supposed to turn the potion pale green. Though he wasn't so arrogant as to assume he was better than the rest of the class – and a quick glance around showed him that several others had been equally successful – he didn't want to take the risk of drawing further attention from Slughorn. The last thing he wanted to do was encourage the unfounded and completely unwanted interest the Potions Master was showing him.

Ignoring the perfectly weighed amount he'd set aside earlier, Remus grabbed a handful of duckweed and dropped it into his potion. The reaction was immediate. The calm blue-green colour the liquid had once been faded immediately to a wan off-white. The mint smell intensified and burnt the inside of his throat and nostrils.

Remus smiled happily to himself, then choked on a mouthful of mint fumes.

As the period drew to a close and the students began packing away their ingredients, Slughorn bustled about the benches, sniffing and inspecting the products of the day's lesson. He grinned eagerly as he approached Remus' cauldron, but the smile fell from his face as he saw the potion within.

"A bit too much duckweed there, my boy," he said, looking disappointedly at Remus. With a mournful shake of his head and a bristle of his moustache, he waddled back to the front of class

Sighing gratefully, Remus continued packing away his things, washing out the last of his potion that was starting to make his eyes water. He wasn't at all averse to achievement, he certainly wanted to do well at school, but Slughorn obviously wasn't interested in him for his talents, as they were. If Remus planned to stay reasonably anonymous during his time at Hogwarts the last thing he needed was his Potions Professor fussing and drawing attention to him.

Suddenly, a triumphant voice rose from the front of the class.

"Oho! Look at this, look at this," Slughorn exclaimed, bouncing excitedly up and down on the balls of his feet. "Expertly measured and combined, beautifully seasoned with… what is that, ground cardamom? Well done, my dear, very well done indeed. May I ask your name?"

"Lily Evans, sir," came the reply.

"Hmm, Evans you say," he said, peering shrewdly at the girl. "Perhaps you're a related to Antonio Evans; I taught him myself, you know, many years ago. He always had a flair for Potions, and he's done some absolutely remarkable things with the Ministry since then. Or perhaps it's Marianna Evans? Yes, there is some resemblance. Oh she did wonderful things for the world of Charms, brilliant witch."

"I don't think I could be related to any of those people, sir," Lily replied in a meek voice. "I'm a muggle-born."

Slughorn laughed boisterously. "Oho, a muggle-born, aye? Well, my girl, I don't think I've ever seen anyone with more natural talent. I'll definitely be keeping an eye on you, my dear."

At the front of the class, Lily blushed prettily.

As soon as the bell rang, Remus quickly darted from the room, already dreading his future Potions classes. A few more sabotaged potions should discourage Slughorn, he thought to himself as he hurried out of the dungeons, already bracing himself for his next class.

Defence Against the Dark Arts proved to be a rather different experience from what he had been expecting. Remus had always enjoyed what he had read of the subject and had been looking forward to getting some hands-on instruction. That was not what he got, however.

Professor Celeste was new to the school and Remus could find no qualities in her teaching ability that suggested how she had gotten the job in the first place. She was a slim young woman with sleek, blonde hair and expensive, flashy robes that had Mary Macdonald and Collette Lewis seething with jealousy.

It was apparent from the first lesson that she lacked anything by way of enthusiasm for her subject. Her idea of teaching involved telling them what textbook pages to read from and spending the rest of the lesson filing her nails or flicking through magazines or simply staring at her students as though she too was wondering why on earth she was here, just like they all were. Worse, Remus couldn't help but notice the wary looks she tossed his way throughout the lessons. It was clear how uncomfortable she was with him, as if she expected him, at any moment, to leap over his desk at her and go for the jugular. He was rather glad then that her chosen teaching method lacked the normal student teacher contact.

He was relieved to find that Professor Sprout, the dumpy, friendly witch with flyaway hair who took Herbology and Flitwick, the tiny, bumbling, silver haired Charms Professor showed very little by way of reaction to him. Though they were both obviously curious about him, cautious even, it was clear they were trying their best to treat him much the same as any other student. Even so, Remus found they sometimes avoided eye contact with him and it occasionally seemed as though they were trying to ignore his presence, but as the days wore on, he was sure they had warmed to him. He was glad for it. He found the subjects interesting and enjoyable and discovered he was quite good at both; something he was sure was part of his Professors' attitude changes.

His Astronomy teacher, Professor Fairwood, a slim, middle-aged woman with light brown hair, was composed though did all she could to ignore Remus when the Gryffindor first years arrived for their Friday night lesson. He supposed disregard was better than the outright hostility that Professor Celeste showed at times, or even the edgy caution shown by Sprout and Flitwick. She had been laughingly uncomfortable, however, when pointing out the almost completely full moon during class.

It was Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall that proved to be the most surprising. Despite her reaction to him on his first night at Hogwarts, she showed no response whatsoever hinting that she had a problem with his lycanthropy. In fact, if he hadn't seen the way she had looked at him during the Sorting, he would have thought she didn't even know he was a werewolf.

It was a welcome change from his other classes. As a subject, Transfiguration proved both tough and appealing and Remus quickly warmed to Professor McGonagall. She was strict without being cruel and managed to balance practical magic with theory. All in all, Remus was really rather impressed with his Head of House.

Some of the other students weren't quite so taken. McGonagall ran a very quiet classroom which stalled much of the chatter that followed the Gryffindor girls around like a buzzing cloud of gnats. However, it had afforded them the opportunity to improve their note passing skills.

James Potter quickly became one of the best in class, and happily preened under McGonagall's positive, if sparse feedback. Peter Pettigrew didn't seem to have any particular talent for the subject, though was awfully impressed with the way James had taken to it. Sirius Black was the only other student with the seemingly natural ability in Transfiguration to offer a challenge for the top spot, though neither boy seemed prepared to acknowledge the other by entertaining such a rivalry.

Even by the end of the week, there was still an awkward dynamic between the four Gryffindor boys. James and Peter were happy in each other's company but Sirius remained apart, seeming content to spend his spare time glowering at anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path or watching James and Peter with a small, hurt expression on his face. And, for his part, Remus kept his interactions with all parties to a bare minimum. It made for a tense atmosphere in the dorm at night as James openly ignored Sirius who openly sulked over it while Peter looked on, confused, and Remus did what he could to stay out of it.

'Staying out of it' proved much more difficult to do than Remus first anticipated. The other Gryffindors had all taken it upon themselves to find out why it was James disliked the other boy so much. Remus had walked into their dormitory several times to discover James and Peter muttering darkly to each other, watched them still whenever Sirius entered the room, seen the way James often kept an eye on the other dark haired boy as though expecting some kind of ambush. By now Remus had overheard the story several times, that Sirius had been sitting with the other two boys on the train to Hogwarts, had gotten along well with James, before either knew who the other was. James could still only offer one real excuse for his actions; "I didn't know he was a Black."

Remus understood, to a degree. There was a natural inclination to distrust Sirius based on his family name alone. That said, Remus also understood a great deal about unjustified prejudices and could clearly see the hypocrisy in James' actions. Maybe the Blacks were a family of prejudiced Slytherins, but James was only proving discrimination could go both ways.

But, despite the blatant disregard of his presence, and even the occasional bit of nettling James threw his way, Sirius didn't respond. Though he spent far too much time brooding than could be healthy for an eleven-year-old, he accepted the treatment as though he deserved it. In fact, Remus thought maybe Sirius believed he did deserve it. Why? Remus wasn't so sure about.

So it was, by the end of their first week at Hogwarts, the four Gryffindor boys spent most of their time avoiding each other.

* * *

Remus awoke on Sunday morning feeling decidedly ill. He had spent the day before in the school's huge library, completing the homework they'd been given. He was also reading ahead in his textbooks at what they would be learning next, well aware that the full moon was the next night and he would be missing out on at least one day of school afterwards. He had managed to hold his anxiety about his transformation in check by focussing on his lessons and schoolwork but now that the day was finally here, he found that he had nothing to distract him.

Dwelling on such thoughts was never a good idea. He climbed out of bed and slowly made his way down to the Great Hall, aware that even though his stomach might not allow him to eat anything, at least it gave him something to do.

As soon as he had taken his customary seat at the far end of Gryffindor table, Professor McGonagall appeared at his side.

"Lupin, would you please come with me," she said. "Professor Dumbledore needs to see you."

He rose quickly and followed behind her as she led him out of the hall and up through the school. He had been waiting for this. Dumbledore had said during his visit over the summer that he would speak with him at school about his plan for the full moon. McGonagall stopped suddenly in front of a statue of a large stone gargoyle.

"Liquorice Wand," she said clearly and the gargoyle sprang to the side as the wall behind it split in two. She led Remus up the spiral staircase that was revealed, taking them higher and higher upwards and finally led to a large oak door at the very top. Without knocking, she showed him through into Professor Dumbledore's office.

It was a large, round, and rather beautiful room, furnished with a number spindly looking tables upon which sat bizarre silver instruments. Remus couldn't even begin to guess the uses of them. From the walls hung portraits of past headmasters and mistresses, all of whom appeared to be asleep and snoring in their frames. Seated behind the large claw-footed desk at the far end of the room, one hand absently twirling his long silvery beard, his robes today a brilliant teal with, ironically enough, small moons patterned over them, sat Albus Dumbledore. He looked up as Professor McGonagall led Remus to him.

"Remus," he greeted him, smiling broadly. "It's very good to see you again. Take a seat, please." He waved his wand and a comfy-looking, high-winged chair appeared in front of his desk. "We will just be a moment; we are waiting for one other person to join us."

Obediently, Remus sat down, shifting anxiously as he waited. Glancing around, he saw the Sorting Hat, looking as dilapidated and mouldy as it had several days ago, sitting motionless on a shelf above them. It was a soft, melodious cry that drew his attention to the other side of the room.

There, standing on a perch to the side of Dumbledore's chair, was a large, beautiful bird. Its gold and crimson plumage was gleaming softly in the morning light and its dark, intelligent eyes were watching him, curiously. Remus released a heavy breath of amazement. "A phoenix," he whispered to himself.

"That's correct," stated Dumbledore and Remus jolted. He hadn't realised the headmaster was listening. "His name is Fawkes and he has been with me for a very long time now. I must admit, I am impressed that a first year brand new to the school can recognize a phoenix so readily."

Remus flushed slightly, still gazing at the remarkable bird, which gave another low, beautiful coo. "I like animals. And I read a lot," he murmured, for some reason embarrassed.

Dumbledore smiled and his blue eyes twinkled. "Yes, I do seem to remember an abundance of books occupying your room when I visited over the summer."

Remus flushed further.

The headmaster sat up straighter and smiled as the office door opened and someone entered. "Ah, Poppy, there you are. Please, take a seat." With another flick of his wand, a chintzy armchair identical to the one Remus sat in appeared and the newcomer lowered herself into it. She was a middle-aged woman whom the boy did not recognize. Her greying, dark blonde hair was caught in a tight knot on the top of her head, her white robes crisp, clean and unlined.

Dumbledore clapped his hands happily. "Now that we are all here, we may begin. First of all," he said happily, "Congratulation, Remus, on making Gryffindor. I'm sure your parents are very proud."

Remus smiled tensely. Using one of the school owls, he had written home the morning after the Sorting telling his parents that he was fine and what house he now belonged to, just as he had been told. He hadn't received a reply just yet, though.

Dumbledore continued. "I'm sure you're aware why you are here."

Remus swallowed heavily and nodded. "It's a full moon tonight," he murmured and his voice broke.

"Yes, naturally, you are correct. Now, allow me introduce to you Madam Pomfrey, the school matron." He indicated to woman sitting beside Remus who smiled slightly and inclined her head. "She will be taking care of you after your transformation this evening."

Quite suddenly, Dumbledore stood and walked to the window at the side of his office and gestured Remus over. He pointed down into the grounds. "Remus, can you tell what that tree is?"

As the boy joined him at the window, he looked down to where the headmaster was indicating. Far below them, its sinuous branches swaying in the faint breeze stood a large, rangy tree. Remus recognised it from a Herbology book he'd read at home and swallowed heavily.

"It's the Whomping Willow you mentioned at the start of term feast, sir," he answered, hoping the dread he was feeling wasn't evident in his voice.

"And again, you are correct." They took their seats again. "Now, as you undoubtedly remember, I mentioned that the Whomping Willow was planted over the summer. What I did not say was why. Beneath that tree is a passageway that leads away from Hogwarts to a safe house we have arranged for you. We planted the Whomping Willow in order to protect the entrance to that passage to keep others away from you.

"Every full moon, Madam Pomfrey will lead you across the grounds and to the safe-house where you will transform. She will then collect you again in the morning and take you safely back to the Hospital Wing. You have been excused from your classes the following day but if you need more time to recover, that is fine. Now, do you have any questions?"

Remus stared at his headmaster, his heart thumping in his throat. He'd never thought such lengths would be gone to just to provide for him; a safe house, a secret tunnel, planting a rare and dangerous tree on school grounds, all to make his staying at Hogwarts possible. He gulped down a mouthful of air. Dumbledore watched calmly over his desk, surveying him from behind his half-moon glasses.

"I, uh… no, I understand," Remus stammered. "Professor, I can't even begin to thank you. I never thought… This is so much more than I…" He trailed off, blinking away the unexpected welling in his eyes.

Fawkes the phoenix released a soft, melancholic cry and a sombre expression crossed Dumbledore's face as he lent forward to speak. "This is no less than what you deserve, Remus. Never think otherwise."

His bright blue eyes stared intensely into Remus' own for a few moments and the boy nodded. The headmaster smiled and stood, coming around the other side of the desk and clapping his hands together.

"Excellent. Madam Pomfrey says you are welcome to wait in the Hospital Wing until it is time for you to go, but I shall leave that up to you." He reached out and rested a strong hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Good luck, Remus."

* * *

The sun was setting, casting a pale orange glow over the Hogwarts grounds. The surface of the lake glittered with flecks of light that danced off the tops of the small waves strummed up by the breeze. Everything was peaceful as the clear, calm day faded into a quiet and soft night. Everything but Remus, that was.

As he followed behind Madam Pomfrey, beneath the branches of the Whomping Willow, its savage movements calmed by touching a small knot on its trunk, and into the dark, cramped tunnel below, he could feel the gnawing anxiety in his belly swell to something resembling panic.

The day had passed dreadfully slowly as he sat in the Hospital Wing doing all he could to avoid thinking about the full moon that night. Unfortunately, there had been little chance to do so as the school matron had plagued him with question upon question concerning his transformations and everything involved. He could understand why she needed to know, but it wasn't something he had never discussed, or ever wanted to. But he hadn't a choice.

She had seemed shocked as he described it: the steady itching ache that spread across his skin, the feeling as though his flesh was tearing as his body tensed and tightened itself. From there it only got worse as a deep pain rose from within him as his muscles and organs shifted, tendons and ligaments tore and mended again, bones snapped and realigned themselves in a new, alien form. And then, worst of all, the agony as his mind relinquished control to the wolf and he lost all sense of self. Her eyes had spoken for her; reading about it was one thing, hearing it first hand from an eleven-year-old boy was another altogether.

He had wanted to stop there but Pomfrey had pressed for more. As soon as the transformation was complete, he lost awareness as the savage monster within him took control. Removed from other living creatures, the wolf turned on itself, biting and scratching and tearing at its own body in a primal rage. When the sun rose the next morning and the transformation reversed, Remus was the one left with the wounds as remnants of the night's activities. Even with magical aid, it often took days before he could function properly, his body left consumed by both absolute exhaustion and the injuries inflicted, and sometimes over a week to recover completely.

It worried him that he would be left so incapacitated. He knew Dumbledore had said he could have as much time as he needed to recover, but Remus knew he couldn't afford to be away for so long. He knew being in the hands of a professional Healer would make a significant difference, he just hoped Dumbledore's confidence in Madam Pomfrey was sound.

Rather suddenly, the tunnel through which they were walking began sloping gently upwards before coming to an abrupt end. Together, Remus and the matron climbed up through the small opening in the wall and squeezed out into the dark room beyond.

Anxiously, the boy looked around. The room was clean and simply furnished; the chairs and tables – there only for the sake of authenticity, he assumed – were dated and rickety. There were stairs leading up to a second level. The external doors and windows were boarded up with wood, the last light of day peeking in through the gaps.

Madam Pomfrey must have seen the concerned expression on his face.

"Don't worry," she said, firmly. "The headmaster has placed as many impervious, repelling and protecting spells as he could on every inch of this house. No one can enter or leave through any other passage but the one we just came through."

Remus nodded and smiled. "It's nicer than the cellar at home," he said softly. "At least I can see outside."

A strange expression crossed the matron's face, something that looked almost like pity. Remus hastily turned away and continued looking around.

"Is there somewhere safe for my clothes and wand?"

"Yes." Pomfrey walked to the small, brick fireplace and shifted a loose stone in the mantelpiece revealing an empty space behind it. "I can collect them when I come for you at dawn," she said.

Remus nodded, all the time aware that it was now moonlight seeping in through the windows. Madam Pomfrey must have noticed as well given the sudden fearful look in her eyes.

She reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, a similar gesture to that Dumbledore had made, but thought better of it. "Good luck," she said, instead, arms hanging awkwardly at her sides.

She then hurried from the room, ducking into the small opening in the wall and disappearing back down the tunnel.

Remus quickly undressed, placing his clothes and wand carefully in the space in the mantelpiece before shifting the brick back over the top. He crouched down against the wall and waited. Before long he began to feel the familiar prickles of pain that broke out over his skin, the touches at the back of his mind as the presence of the wolf grew stronger with every minute, pushing and snarling to take control.

With a strangled gasp, he dropped to his hands and knees as the transformation began.

* * *

Consciousness came to him gradually as he kept his eyes shut against the light that surrounded him. He felt sluggish and slow, a familiar sensation he recalled owing to Dreamless Sleep Potions. As he opened his eyes, taking in the sight of the high, white ceiling above him and the curtains drawn around his bed, Madam Pomfrey appeared.

She looked tired and worried, her greying hair slightly awry, her white robes rumpled. "How do you feel?" she asked, her voice was intent but soft.

Remus blinked heavily. His body ached with a dizzying combination of pain and exhaustion, but it wasn't as bad as normal. He felt better, significantly stronger and healthier than he ever had after a transformation.

"I'm… um," he mumbled, thickly, "I'm okay."

Madam Pomfrey made a sceptical sound in reply and pulled his sheets down to his waist. She bustled about him, checking bandages and applying potions and spells to varying wounds and discoloured areas. Remus closed his eyes, too tired to feel self-conscious of his semi-clad state or the fuss she was making over him.

"You had many scratches, mostly to your arms and chest and shoulders, and several bites," she said as she worked, "As well as a number of significant bruises on your back and sides. You dislocated your left shoulder and nearly broke several ribs, but they should be fine now."

Her voice clearly gave her away; she hadn't expected his injuries to be quite to this extent. Remus was actually rather impressed. From what she described, he'd done much worse to himself. He tried to say as much but couldn't bring himself to. The effort was too great.

With a silent and rather content sigh, he relaxed against the mattress. It was over; he wouldn't have to worry for another twenty-nine days, the full moon as far away now as it would ever be. His mind felt calm and quiet and entirely his own for the first time since he had arrived at Hogwarts.

Without intending to or even realising, Remus drifted off into a deep and peaceful sleep.

* * *

Remus awoke on Tuesday morning and lay silently on his back, watching the shadows and lights of the early morning chase each other across the high ceiling, breathing deeply. He'd slept long, right through the night and most of the previous day. Even so, he couldn't believe how good he felt, more refreshed and rested and far more healthy than he ever had only one day after a transformation. He was still tired and more than a bit stiff, but his mind was alert and firing. For the first time, he was genuinely looking forward to his classes.

He sat up slowly as Madam Pomfrey slipped behind the curtain surrounding his bed, already aware that he was awake. "How are you feeling?" she asked, businesslike as she moved around him, checking leftover bruises and removing the last bandage on his shoulder.

"Really good," he replied, smiling brightly, "Better than ever."

She raised a sceptical eyebrow at him and Remus couldn't help the flush that spread across his cheeks. "Well, I'm still tired, and a little sore," he amended, sheepishly, "But I feel much better than I normally do. I can definitely handle going to class today." He hoped to head off any ideas she might have about him staying any longer. She saw through him immediately.

"Well, that is good to hear." She looked closely at him and sighed. "I suppose you can leave today. If it were any other situation I would keep you here for another day, but as this is going to be a regular occurrence, you can't really afford to miss too much school, now, can you?"

Remus couldn't contain the relieved smile that bloomed on his face.

Pomfrey's eyes narrowed and she pointed a stern finger at him. "But if you start to feel worse, come back immediately. Now, you can eat your breakfast here. Do you have everything you need for the day?" Remus nodded, remembering the bag he had packed on Sunday before the moon.

As she headed off to collect his breakfast, she stopped and turned, reaching under her white robes and producing a small envelope. "Oh yes, this arrived for you yesterday," she said, handing it to him before disappearing behind the curtain.

Remus turned it over in his hands and recognised the writing on the front as his mother's. With a small smile, he opened it.

_ Dear Remus,_

_ Congratulations on making Gryffindor; your father and I are very proud of you and I know how happy you must be. I'm sure your classes are going well and you are making plenty of friends._

_ I hoped I timed this right, I wanted this letter to arrive before Sunday evening but I think I may have left it too late. If it has arrived on time then, good luck. I'm sure everything will be all right. Professor Dumbledore assured us that the school nurse would take excellent care of you, much better than your father and I could. If I was too late, then I hope you are all right and everything went well. I'm sure it did. I'm not too worried. Though a reply saying you are healthy and safe wouldn't be amiss._

_ I miss you everyday; the house seems empty without you here. Remember, we love you and we couldn't be more proud._

_ Love Mum._

Folding the letter up, Remus made a mental note to respond that evening as Madam Pomfrey returned with a tray of toast and cereal. He found himself suddenly ravenous having not eaten properly for several days and eagerly started on the food.

As he ate, he couldn't contain the grin that spread across his face. It all seemed too good to be true; his classes, his teachers, his sorting, even the full moon. He realised that in a twisted sort of way, he had been expecting to fail. He hadn't believed that everything Professor Dumbledore had promised would ever actually happen. Yet here he was, living out the one dream he had always thought to be beyond him.

He finished his breakfast and leant back against his pillows, staring up at the ceiling. The sun was now streaming in, bathing the Hospital Wing in pale light. Remus smiled and shut his eyes, lying still and peaceful.

He was a werewolf. He was at Hogwarts. And for the first time, he genuinely believed he could make this work.

* * *

_A/N: Okay, so, I pretty much hated this chapter before. Now, after my big edit, I like it a bit more. A bit. Previously, there was a really lame scene with Remus and Sirius in Transfiguration and for some reason (at the time that I wrote this about... three years ago) I thought it was a good idea to make McGonagall a bitch and be mean and mistrusting of Sirius. Ever since, I've always thought it was hugely out of character and disliked that entire scene but never had the motivation to change it. Now, I am so glad I did now._

_I've expanded the whole James-not-trusting-Sirius thing to be longer than it was originally, also. Before, that whole conflict resolved itself about halfway through this chapter, in a scene I've never liked, so I took it out. I like the idea that James is kind of a bigot in a lot of ways. Because, really, he is. Yes, he is bigoted in such a way that his prejudices are against bad people, but he takes it too far. Just look at Snape. So, I always liked the idea that he doesn't trust Sirius straight away because he's a Black and James can't get over the whole Slytherin thing. I don't think I really did the idea justice at all, but I tried. It's tough writing a conflict like that when working in a really narrow perspective like Remus' is right now. His world revolves around settling into Hogwarts, avoiding people, and worrying about the full moon, so trying to work in an external conflict between two characters he's not interacting with yet was tough. I was going to write some sort of confrontation scene, but I was too lazy. But I think it'll be in the next chapter. I haven't written it yet. It will resolve then, though, so you people worried about when the awesome bromance of James and Sirius is really going to take off, it is coming, never you fear._

_And just to clarify, I know that James is a dick in this chapter, it's only for a moment. I love James, he is awesome, my second favourite after Remus, so I don't want people to interpret this as me trying to slander his character or whatever._

_Other than that... well, if you have an questions, quostions or quistions about the rest of this chapter, feel free to ask me in a review! I guarantee I will respond. So, please review!_

_Please._

_So, until next time, ciao._


	5. Chapter III: Great, Small and Redheaded

_A/N: Oh my god, I'm back!_

_Sorry it has been so long between updates, hopefully I haven't lost any readers. I have no excuse for the lateness other than my own laziness. Due to changes made in the previous chapter, I had to write an entirely new section for this one, and I found it nearly impossible to start. I feel stupid now, because once I just sat down and started writing, it was actually quite easy to get out... hopefully it's not crap._

_Before I start, I want to give a shout-out to my unofficial 'beta': flourish-blotts. I say unofficial because I'm still not entirely sure about what exactly a beta does, and the editing she does for me is quite casual. She was the first person to read this story, all the way back in 2007 when all I had was a chapter and a half of 'Prologue', and since then has been helping with editing, sounding-board-ness and support. So, thank you, Flourish! (See, I told you I'd be nice. And you thought I'd be all snarky and sarcastic, for shame!)_

_Okay then, let's do this. This chapter is kind of all over the place, so I apologise for that. Hopefully, you all still like it._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Of Wolf and Man**

**Chapter III**

All Creatures Great, Small and Redheaded

_In which months pass and our main protagonist, rather accidentally, makes several friends and is given a new undertaking of a similar course._

The good mood he had woken up with stayed with Remus all day on Tuesday. In fact, his return to regular life at Hogwarts and the good disposition this inspired in him was marred by only one thing: paranoia. It was a feeling Remus was well acquainted with, given the secret he was trying to keep. He knew his classmates might ask questions about where he had disappeared to for several days, and he dreaded having to come up with a convincing excuse.

As it was, no one said anything until Charms, just before lunch.

The Gryffindor first years were all settling down for class when Lily Evans appeared at Remus' elbow and took the usually vacant seat next to him. She said nothing but smiled briefly while they unpacked their bags and Flitwick called the roll.

She waited until the rest of the class was well engaged in their work before she spoke. "Are you alright?" She leant in close with a rather worried expression on her face. "You weren't in class yesterday?"

Her concern caught him off guard. Though he had expected a few queries as to where he had been, he'd thought they would come from his dorm mates, curious as to where he had vanished for two nights. Given his efforts to keep to himself, he hadn't expected someone else to notice him missing from class.

"I wasn't feeling well," he told her. "I spent the day in the Hospital Wing." It wasn't a particularly imaginative lie, but Remus figured it was the safest bet. At least it was vaguely true.

"Oh." She peered closely at him. "You still look a bit pale. Are you sure you are feeling all right?"

He nodded and tried to smile reassuringly. She returned the gesture and seemed content with his answer.

* * *

Time passed as it is inclined to do, and to Remus the weeks went by swiftly as he threw himself into his schoolwork. He fell quickly into a routine, waking early every morning and leaving before his dorm mates, moving between classes where he sat by himself and worked quietly, and spending any spare time he had in the school library. He was constantly surprised by how easily he had settled into his new life at Hogwarts; it was far better than he had ever dreamed it would be.

His subjects only grew more interesting as the days and weeks ticked by, and it seemed his teachers had all become accustomed to his presence. All save Professor Celeste, who continued to cast wary glances at him from over the top of her nail file. Charms quickly became his favourite subject, both because he discovered a natural talent for it and because it was the only subject in which he had company, in the form of Lily Evans.

For reasons Remus could never discern, after that Tuesday when he returned from his first full moon at Hogwarts, Lily continued to sit with him in all Charms lessons, working as his partner in practical exercises, chatting with him as they worked quietly together. She was vibrant and intelligent; Remus found her impossible not to like. She didn't seem to mind his quiet tendencies and his occasional bouts of silence. In fact, she seemed happy to talk enough for both of them. Before long, Remus found himself looking forward to each Charms lesson if only for her company.

"I guess Mr Ollivander was right," she said one Wednesday afternoon as they sat together, flicking their wands at the royal blue teacups before them, turning them canary yellow. They were the only students in the class who had managed it on their first try. Most had only succeeded in turning them green.

"He told me my wand would be good at this. 'Phoenix feather and willow, ten and a quarter inches, swishy, nice for charm work,'" she quoted, lowering her voice and wiggling her eyebrows mysteriously in a bad imitation of the wandmaker.

Remus smiled as he inverted their cup back to blue. "I think it has more to do with your talent than your wand," he said to her in a quiet voice, smiling.

She beamed at him, blushing prettily. "What did he say about yours?" she replied, her green eyes twinkling.

Remus looked down at his own wand. He could remember the day clearly.

It was mid-August and Diagon Alley was sweltering under the summer sun. Yet despite the bright rays pouring in the windows and the busy crowds pushing past the glass, upon entering the shop, Remus found it eerie, cool and unnaturally quiet. His father was waiting just outside. Choosing a wand, he had told Remus, was considered a private experience for a young wizard. And Roland was determined to give his son all the 'normal' experiences he could.

Mr Ollivander was standing by the counter, looking out the window at Roland Lupin. As the boy approached, the wandmaker smiled down at him with pale, enquiring eyes. "Remus Lupin," he nodded in greeting.

Remus nodded back and felt his legs tighten, ready to bolt.

"I served both your father and grandfather before you," Ollivander explained without prompting, "But I wasn't sure if I would ever see _you_ pass through these doors. I am glad you have."

And, again, Remus tensed. Ollivander knew, he knew what Remus was, and all of the boy's instincts were screaming at him to run. But he was a wizard. He needed a wand. So he didn't move.

"Unusual customer," Ollivander continued, stepping out from behind the counter, cotton-wisp hair catching the light and shining white. "I've never served another like you, there are very few so young. Who knows how it will affect the decision."

He stood over Remus, peering at him with those strange silvery eyes that made the boy feel exposed. Remus was uncomfortably aware of how that gaze lingered on his right arm and the twisted, white scar that was just visible poking out from beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt.

With an eerie smile, Mr Ollivander pulled out a tape measure from beneath his robes. "Hold out your wand arm, please," he murmured.

Remus complied, holding out his left hand. The tape sprang into life and set about taking the boy's measurements. Meanwhile, the wandmaker vanished into the back of the store, reappearing with an armload of long, narrow wand-boxes.

It seemed to take hours as Ollivander handed the boy wand after wand, and all the while his silvery eyes had glittered ever brighter and more curious. When finally Remus found the right one, a shot of warmth spreading from his fingertips all the way up his arm, swirls of smoky, glittering mist falling around him as he swept his wand through the air, the old man smiled, pale eyes crinkling at the corner.

"Hmm, yes, interesting choice," he said, softly. "Rowan wood. Folklore has long seen rowan trees as forms of protection against malevolent forces, yet it's ironic that one such as you ends up with this wand. Very ironic. Rowan and unicorn hair, twelve and a quarter inches, supple and quick. A subtle wand, but powerful nonetheless."

That's yet to be proven, Remus thought rather deprecatingly, before looking up at the girl next to him. She smiled at him and raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"Not much," he finally replied, "Just what it was made of."

Lily nodded and turned back to their teacup.

* * *

The weeks were rolling by, September quickly drawing to a close, and the Gryffindor first years all settled well into their new life at Hogwarts. They confidently knew they way around now; knew which staircases liked to move, which dead-end corridors had trick walls that liked to pretend to be doors, all when you were late to class. Remus took a certain amount of pride in knowing the path to and from his lessons; it felt like he was conquering some kind of trick maze.

Unfortunately, their teachers also knew this, and were no longer so lenient with tardy students. James and Peter discovered this fact several weeks into the school year after sleeping late one Tuesday and missing the first twenty minutes of Transfiguartion, earning the Gryffindor first years their very first detention. They were all much more careful to arrive on time from then on.

The friendships made in those first confusing, rushed days of school held fast in the weeks that followed. Sirius Black also continued to maintain his strained distance from the other first years, though whether that was by choice or not, Remus was still unsure. While the other Gryffindors had no particular problem with the boy, the bubbling animosity between Sirius and James was palpable enough to dissuade anyone attempting to help the boys resolve their differences.

It all finally came to a head one Thursday noon as the class headed out to Herbology.

It was an innocent enough situation – two students bumping into each other on the way to a lesson – and it happened to everyone else several times a day. But, with these two boys, on this particular day, the situation was beyond a quick nod or apology. Remus wasn't sure why it blew up the way it did, if Sirius had finally snapped after weeks of James' sniping comments, or James had tired of the heaving sighs Sirius had begun putting on whenever the two boys were near each other, but by the time Remus arrived on the scene, all that remained to do was stand with other first years and watch the carnage unfold.

"Watch where you're going!" James snapped, straightening his glasses and hoisting his bag back up onto his shoulder.

Sirius' brow darkened, grey eyes rolling skyward. "You ran into me. Why don't _you_ watch where _you're_ going, four-eyes," he muttered, turning away as the insult slipped off his tongue.

"What did you just call me?"

Sirius turned back to face the other boy, pale face twisting scornfully. "You heard me. What, you can dish it out, but you can't take it, Potter?"

"I can take it fine!"

Sirius let out a bark like laugh. "What does that even mean? That makes no sense."

James scowled, nose wrinkling up towards his forehead. "Yeah, well, you make no sense."

"Oh, clever, Potter, that one really hurt." Sirius clutched at his chest in mock pain, before screwing up his face and laughing again.

From where he lingered on the fringes of the fight, Remus could see that this was not going to end well. That feeling of dread only worsened as he watched James drop his bag, hand reaching into his pocket for his wand.

"Maybe you should leave it, James," Peter muttered from behind his friend. "I don't think the teachers would be happy if you started a duel here, in the courtyard."

"I'd listen to your fat friend, Potter." Sirius nodded towards Peter. "You shouldn't start something you won't be able to finish."

"Don't call him that!" James hurled back. His wand was out of his pocket now and shaking in his fist.

"Fine, then go ahead. Curse me, hex me. Do something. If you've got the guts." Sirius spread his arms out wide and watched, his face still twisted up in a mocking, angry expression. James stared back and his jaw twitched. But he did nothing.

Sirius scoffed and lowered his arms. "That's what I thought. You're some Gryffindor."

"Better than a reject Slytherin, like you, _Black_."

The smug look dropped instantly from Sirius' face. Remus could see hurt dancing behind his eyes, his fists clenching, mouth turning downwards as he tried to find words again. With a huff, he bent and picked his bag back up and half turned away. "Just what is your problem, Potter?"

It was James' turn to scoff. "I thought that was obvious. _You're_ my problem."

Again, Sirius winced, but he hid it quickly behind a huff of laughter. "Right, well, I'm so very sorry I offend you so much. I'll happily stay far, _far_ away from you in the future."

He turned and began to walk away. He didn't get far.

"Well, look who it is."

Remus didn't recognise the speaker. She was an older student, tall and willowy, silvery-blonde hair flowing straight down her back. She stood with a small group of friends, her hand resting daintily on the bend of an older boy's arm. In the weak noon light, the stripes of silver on their green school ties glimmered mockingly at the young Gryffindors.

The scowl on Sirius' face grew impossibly darker. "What do you want, Narcissa?"

"Is that any way to greet your cousin?" the girl mocked. "I'll have to speak to Aunt Walburga about your etiquette, Sirius. It seems to be slipping spending so much time around this riff-raff." While the other Slytherins laughed, her pale eyes skimmed over the rest of the Gryffindor first years, still gathered around James and Sirius.

"You do that," Sirius spat at her, and moved to walk away. However, the boy standing next to Narcissa quickly stepped into his path. Sirius glared up at him. "Get out of my way, Malfoy."

The older boy merely smirked down at the first year and tossed his blonde hair away from his pale, pointed face. "You shouldn't be so rude, Sirius. I might have to give you detention." He tapped the silver prefect's badge pinned to his chest with one long, pale finger.

"Don't waste your time, Lucius. Little Sirius isn't worth it." Narcissa smiled, sickly sweet, and re-linked her arm with the older boy. She then turned her gaze back to Sirius. "You know, your parents are extremely disappointed in you, cousin."

Sirius sneered. "Oh, I'm so sorry about that."

Narcissa's keen eyes hardened. "You should be," she snapped. "You have no idea of the kind of shame and disgrace you have brought upon their house with your actions. One of our own, a Gryffindor; the Black family has never been so ashamed."

"Really? When should I expect my Howler then?" Sirius smirked at his cousin. "I've been waiting for one from Mother for weeks now."

"Then I recommend you don't hold your breath, cousin. She won't send one; you aren't worth the effort."

Sirius blinked and flinched as though he'd been slapped. Remus felt his stomach twist in disgust as the Slytherins again cackled amongst themselves. The other Gryffindors all squirmed in place uneasily. A peculiar scowl had appeared on James' face.

Again, Narcissa swept her eyes over the Gryffindors, and Remus felt the hairs on the back of his neck spring up. Her gaze lingered on James where he stood several paces behind Sirius. "You should stick close to your blood traitor friends, cousin," she said with a disenchanting smile, "They're all you have now."

Flicking her silvery hair back behind her shoulders, she and the other Slytherins swept away, the Gryffindors parting around them like the sea.

The first years stood together in silence for a long moment. Remus looked around at the others; saw the sympathy in their faces, all watching Sirius, waiting for whatever his reaction might be. The dark haired boy simply stared after the retreating backs of the Slytherins, hurt glimmering in his eyes.

With an expression of concerned curiosity, James stepped towards the other boy. "What was all that about?"

Sirius turned on him, grey eyes flashing. "Nothing. What's it to you?"

With that, he stomped away, back up to the castle.

* * *

Sirius was conspicuously absent from class for the rest of the day. Even then, lessons were a quiet affair. The sympathy Remus had seen on their faces before never quite left each of his classmates' expressions. He knew it wasn't even necessarily concern for Sirius. Some of them were simply in shock after what had happened, some even slightly afraid, no one entirely sure how to respond to everything that they had heard.

Remus himself wasn't sure what to make of it. The confrontation between Sirius and James had been brewing for a while. In fact, Remus had almost been eager for it, hoping it might help diffuse whatever issues there were between the two boys. But, the altercation between Sirius and the Slytherins, the things Narcissa had said to him, was not easy to forget. There was clearly no love lost between the cousins – clearly issues between Sirius and his whole family – which went some way to help explain the boy's reaction to his unexpected sorting. It was obvious that whatever assumptions had been made about Sirius because of his family name were in need of some correcting.

James, in particular, seemed to be struggling with that concept. Remus had spent enough time around the other boy, observed enough of the conflict between James and Sirius, to see how having to rethink his whole opinion on Sirius was doing James' head in.

So, Remus was particularly surprised when, after dinner where Sirius had once more been absent, James and Peter cornered the other boy where he had been sitting, brooding, at a window in the Gryffindor common room. As they sat down, the dark haired boy looked up at them, expressions of shock and wariness warring on his face. Remus was seated on the floor near the fireplace doing his homework, and he couldn't help but turn his head to listen.

"Don't say anything; just listen to me for a minute, okay?" James said hastily, holding up a silencing hand when the other boy took a breath to reply. Sirius watched him warily for a moment before shrugging and nodding for James to continue.

The bespectacled boy took a deep breath and shoved his glasses up back up his nose. "So here's the thing," he began. "You're a Black and Blacks are always in Slytherin, but somehow you managed to get into Gryffindor and now we're all wondering why. But, I've realised, it's not your fault that you're family is a bunch pureblood prats and you did say to me on the train that you wanted to be in a different house to all of them, so there's no reason everyone should be acting like you don't belong because the hat decided to put you here just like it did the rest of us. So, I guess what I'm trying to say is, I'm sorry for being an idiot and thinking you were part of some evil Slytherin plot because, well, I'm pretty sure you're not… Oh! And, sorry for calling you a reject before, and, you know, all the other things I've called you… That's all…"

James took a deep breath before sitting still, waiting. The words had all come out very fast and Remus was sure the boy had said it all in one breath. Next to James, Peter looked rather impressed.

Sirius stared at the other boy for several tense moments, unmoving. "You've been treating me like crap since the Sorting because you found out I'm a Black?"

James flushed and nodded. Sirius continued.

"And because I'm a Black, you thought I was part of an 'evil Slytherin plot' to take over Gryffindor house?"

James shrugged. "Well, I didn't know if your goal was to take over Gryffindor or if it was just a step in some bigger, eviller scheme. I hadn't quite worked that part out yet."

Sirius continued to stare. Suddenly, his mouth twisted and he snorted before bursting out laughing.

"Right," he said, grinning across the table, "That makes complete sense. You really are an idiot."

James grinned back in return.

The next morning, the three boys arrived at breakfast together, talking and laughing as if they had known each other for years.

* * *

Before Remus knew it, September had shot by and the full moon was upon him again. He tried to remain calm and relaxed, telling himself he had gone through it once already at school and everything had been fine, but it did little to quell his nerves. When the day finally arrived, Madam Pomfrey again led him along the tiny and dank tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow to the safe house waiting for him. They were early this time; the sun was only just beginning to set as they arrived, and the matron departed quickly, eager to get back to school. Remus was left with spare time to explore the house they had set up for him.

It looked different from the last time he had been here; a lot of the furniture was broken or shattered completely, claw marks marring the walls, dark stains of what he knew had been blood discolouring the floorboards. He did his best to avoid thinking about how that had all happened. Instead, he took the staircase he'd seen last time, inspecting the upper level.

It was much the same as the downstairs had been, relatively clean though sparsely furnished. The only exception to this was a rather ornate and comfortable looking four-poster bed found in one of the larger rooms. Remus assumed Dumbledore had arranged for it, assuming perhaps that such comfort would be welcome after the night's transformation. Of course, once the moon had set and Remus was human again, he barely had the strength to remain conscious, let alone drag himself into bed.

"Still a nice thought," Remus murmured to himself as he left the room, careful to shut the door behind him, hoping that maybe that would keep him from destroying the bed while transformed.

It was growing darker, what little light that managed to creep past the boarded-up windows fading as the sun set. Remus approached a tall window at the end of the upstairs corridor and peered out through the gap between two of the boards. He couldn't make out much, the outline of trees, the dusky horizon over the mountains. Standing on his toes, he peered out through a larger gap. There, in the far distance, he saw what looked like a small village. The thought of civilians living so close to where he transformed did nothing to comfort him.

He made his way back downstairs and sat against the empty fireplace, wishing he had brought something to read. He watched the golden lines of light that peaked through from outside fade as night came, streaks of silver touching the floorboards as the full moon rose above him. With a steadying breath, he undressed and stowed his things away behind the loose stone in the mantelpiece, and crouched against the wall to wait for the transformation.

* * *

Remus woke the next day in much the same state as the previous month: sluggish, aching and utterly exhausted. His wounds were easily dealt with by Madam Pomfrey and he departed for class the next morning, the only remnants of the night a mass of purple bruising on his side that was healing fast and an aching wrist that he had broken rather savagely.

When the first Saturday after the full moon finally arrived, Remus left the dormitory early, heading for the library. When he arrived, however, he discovered it very nearly full as a sudden bout of chill wind and brief rain forced the students inside. The librarian, Madam Pince, who was infamous around Hogwarts for her short temper, was even more irritable than usual due to the sudden influx of people. When, after barely twenty minutes, Remus watched as a fifth student was chased from the library by the cantankerous librarian, he decided to give up and departed to find somewhere else to complete his homework.

The common room was certainly out of question. He'd done his best to avoid that area, well aware that it was where most of the other first years passed their time. He enjoyed Lily's company in class but he still wasn't sure how familiar he should get with anyone else. The other Gryffindor girls had already formed their own circles. Mary Macdonald and Collette Lewis were inseparable now a month into the school year, while Annabel Scott and Michelle Martin, who Lily spent most of her time with, kept to themselves as well.

The other three Gryffindor boys were the real problem. Now that they were actually speaking, James and Sirius were practically joined at the hip and, together with Peter Pettigrew, posed quite a formidable threat. At least, that was the way Remus thought about it. As his roommates, they were in the best position of anyone to figure out his secret. And while they had never gone out of their way to include him, it was impossible for three overly social, rambunctious boys to just ignore someone they lived with every day, even if said someone did his best to ignore them. So their polite invitations to join them in chess tournaments and loud rounds of Gobstones were continuously denied and Remus did his best to avoid both the dorm and the common room.

Of course, he was being paranoid. But that didn't make his argument any less valid.

That Saturday was no different. With the common room and dormitory both out of question and the library taken over by hostile forces, Remus found his options were slim. So, he took to the corridors. Though he was now familiar with the pathways that led to all of his classrooms, most of the school was still uncharted territory. He thought he must be able to find somewhere that was quiet and unoccupied to finish his homework within the unexplored vastness of the Hogwarts castle.

But as the hours wore on, Remus happily gave up on the prospect of homework. He was enjoying his time wandering the endless hallways and corridors of the school far more than he thought he would have. Something in the echo of his footsteps bouncing between the walls of the empty floors and the idea of not knowing what was around each corner, not knowing where the next wandering staircase was going to take him, stirred up an adventurous streak within Remus he had never been aware of before.

After eating a quick lunch in the Great Hall, he followed his feet outside and across the lawns, towards the forbidden forest. The trees were massive, the space between them ominous and dark and Remus followed the tree line around the grounds, pulling his red and gold scarf tight around his neck to ward of the biting wind that sliced through his thin, second-hand coat and ruffled his hair into disarray.

Quite suddenly, as he paused briefly to retie his shoelaces, a thunderous voice called out.

"Oi, stop!" it said, booming over him. Remus turned to look in its direction and saw the enormous figure of the groundskeeper, Hagrid, hurrying towards him. He looked even more frightening now than he had that first night, his hair matted and tangled from the rain and wind, his huge moleskin coat billowing about him.

"Forest's out o' bounds fer students," he continued, reaching Remus' side.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the boy replied, quickly. "I was just walking. Not in the forest, just around the grounds."

Hagrid narrowed his eyes sceptically behind his wild hair. "No' exactly the nicest day to be out exporin'," he said, clearly suspicious.

"I just wanted to learn my way around better."

The groundskeeper peered at him beadily for several moments before his expression softened. "Yeh'd be a firs' year then?"

Remus nodded.

"How about you come back to mine, have a cup o' tea?" Hagrid asked. Remus started. He'd hardly been expecting the offer of a hot beverage from the mad looking groundskeeper.

Hagrid continued. "Go on, yeh look like yeh need it; yer practically frozen over." He grinned down at him and his dark eyes crinkled kindly around the edges.

"Oh, er… I don't want to impose."

"Nah, yer not imposin'." The giant man absently waved a huge hand. "Come on then."

Remus followed obediently, across the lawn along the edge of the forest to the quaint wood-cabin built near the border of the trees. As they reached the door, loud barking started from within.

"Down, down, yeh silly dog," Hagrid said as he pushed open the door and was met by a large, grey bloodhound and its eager tongue. He turned back to Remus, holding the dog by its collar.

"This is Rex," he said. "Don' worry, he's harmless. Worst he could do is lick yeh. Come on in."

It was rather cramped inside, the already small space filled from floor to ceiling with a rather impressive assortment of clutter. Rather disconcertingly, Remus thought he saw a pile of blankets in the corner shift and let out a brief sigh as he entered.

Hagrid jerked the door to and lumbered past him, saying, "Take a seat, I'll just make us some tea."

Remus made his way over to the table and nervously sat down, rubbing the dog, Rex, behind the ears as it placed its velvety head in his lap. Behind him, Hagrid could be heard clattering about in his cupboards, often accompanied by the sounds of clinking and sloshing and the occasional tinkering of shattering cups.

He finally arrived at the table, arms loaded with a plate of brick sized cakes, two large mugs, and a massive teapot. With a happy grin to the small boy, he poured out two cups and handed Remus one.

Hagrid took his seat and slurped noisily from his mug. "So, what's yer name then?" he asked.

"Remus Lupin."

Hagrid's response was immediate. In a second, his back straightened, his eyes widened and he stared at boy, dumfounded. He didn't even notice as his hot tea spilled onto his hand as he jerked. It was easy for Remus to guess why.

"You know about me?" he asked rather rhetorically, staring at his hands as they twisted in his lap.

Hagrid continued to stare for a few moments. "Well, yeah," he finally said. "Dumbledore told me same as all the teachers, me being the groundskeeper an' all. He wanted me to know just in case yeh… well, just in case."

Remus nodded solemnly but still refused to meet his eye. Hastily, the big man continued. "But, listen, I've no' got a problem with it. I mean, it's pretty obvious–" He gestured at himself, obviously alluding to his rather impressive bulk, "–I'm different too. I'm no' one to judge just 'cause o' somethin' like that. Besides, Dumbledore says just the same an' I trust Dumbledore. If he says yer alrigh' then yeh must be."

Remus looked back up to the big man's face. His beetle black eyes shone with sincerity and he was smiling encouragingly. The boy couldn't help but return the gesture with a small smile of his own.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

Hagrid thumped a heavy hand down on his shoulder sending the boy crashing into the table, winded. His eyes were suddenly bright with tears as he spoke. "People like us, Remus, we gotta stick together. We may be different, but that don't mean we're worth any less than anyone else. Yeh gotta remember that. So long as yeh do that and there're people like Dumbledore to support us, we'll be alrigh'."

The man was so genuine and infallibly earnest that Remus could do nothing but nod and smile, even if he didn't necessarily believe him.

The rest of the day passed easily. Hagrid was similar to Lily in the way that he could talk animatedly without much assistance or input from Remus. Conversation with him was comfortable, a large part of which Remus guessed stemmed from Hagrid's knowledge of his condition. He didn't have to worry about him ever finding out his deep, dark secret because, in the end, he already knew the worst of it. By nature, however, Hagrid was both curious and unintuitive, a rather unfortunate combination, and plied Remus with the sort of personal questions the boy wasn't comfortable with and was unused to fending off. He spent most of his afternoon doing his best to divert the path of his companion's questions before they became too uncomfortable.

When evening came and the sun began to set over a grey horizon, Hagrid led Remus to the door and beamed happily down at him as the boy roughly scrubbed his hands over Rex's coat, saying goodbye to the dog who licked eagerly at any part of him his tongue could reach.

Wiping a wet line of dog saliva of his cheek, Remus smiled and straightened, swinging his bag back over his left shoulder. "Thank you for the tea, Hagrid. This has been nice," he said with sincerity.

The groundskeeper flushed happily. "Oh, well, yeh can come down for a cuppa anytime yeh want," he said, grinning at the small boy. "I like havin' company and Rex definitely likes yeh. An' like I said, we gotta stick together, folk like us."

Remus nodded. "I'd like that. Thank you."

Behind them, the sun was sinking lower, casting long shadows over the Hogwarts grounds. "Yeh should get back to the castle. Don't wan' to miss dinner," Hagrid said.

"Oh, right. Again, thanks for the tea and everything." Remus nodded his head politely and Hagrid smiled.

"Like I said, yeh can come back an' visit anytime yeh want," he said happily. "Now, off yeh get."

Remus set off back towards the school, Hagrid waving to him from his doorstep.

* * *

After that, the days seemed to fly by even faster. While Hagrid's presence in his life was relatively minor, he served as a means to pass the time. He often invited the boy down for tea on weekends or after school, sometimes talking for hours about the animals around Hogwarts that he had raised and trained and his aspirations for rearing other, more exotic creatures. Remus was all the more appreciative of his company because his friendship with the giant man was the only relationship he had made at Hogwarts that didn't make him feel guilty or concerned. He had nothing to worry about with Hagrid, no dread secrets lurking between them, and for the first time his father's warning was silent in his mind. Though his visits were random and only occasional, it was enough to fill a lot of otherwise spare time left over after school was done and his homework had been completed.

Before Remus knew it, Hallowe'en had arrived. After a Sunday filled with homework that was made difficult by the distracting scent of baking pumpkins that wafted around the school, the boy was utterly blown away when he entered the Great Hall for the feast that evening.

Thousands of live bats swooped around the ceiling, the floating candles replaced by jack-o'-lanterns that hovered ominously in midair above them, wicked laughing faces casting shadows across the students sitting below. The tables were littered with all kinds of festive foods and even Remus, two days away from his next transformation and with an ever-diminishing appetite, found it impossible to resist.

However, for him, the joy of the occasion was short lived. Though he enjoyed the feast, the pull of the moon was growing stronger by the minute. The next two days of class proved far more difficult than he was used to, the presence of the wolf at the back of his mind snarling and pushing for dominance. For the first time, he felt vaguely thankful when the evening of the full moon came, knowing that afterwards, everything would go back to normal. Or, as normal as was possible for him.

* * *

November blew by in a flurry of storms and sleet that pelted the school as winter fell over the grounds. The first Quidditch match of the year came and went as Slytherin trounced a painfully unprepared Gryffindor team. The corridors grew chilled and draughty, even the library became cool and unpleasant in the bitter weather that settled over Hogwarts, forcing Remus from his usual retreat up to the common room and its blazing fire.

One Thursday evening, late in the month, found Remus in his usual spot, curled up against the wall near the fire. A book lay open in his lap as read, listening to the comforting sound of the lapping flames and the chatter of the students that filled the room. Nearby on one of the couches, the other first years were happily in discussion, the girls at least; James, Peter and Sirius were suspiciously absent despite the late hour. That in itself wasn't strange though. The three boys had been arriving back to the tower later and later; the previous week they had even been caught by Professor McGonagall and lost Gryffindor thirty points. Even so, Remus wasn't all that curious about what they were doing. Or, he was trying not to be. He was still making a pointed effort to avoid his three dorm mates.

Just at that moment, all three burst in through the portrait hole and stumbled over to a couch in the corner. They were whispering urgently to each other and several moments passed before Remus realised Sirius' nose was bleeding rather profusely. It was hidden by his school scarf which he had shoved into his face to staunch the flow of blood. The three boys fell onto a nearby couch, and Remus could easily hear their discussion.

"– go to McGonagall, tell her what happened," Peter was saying. "They're really strict about this sort of thing here."

"Pete's right," James said. "They can't get away with this. So what, you got into Gryffindor? That doesn't mean they can jump you in the hallway and walk away, even if you are related to half of them. I've told you before that you should tell someone about it."

"And I've told you, if I rat on them, it'll just make it worse," Sirius replied, his voice thick and slightly slurred. "And besides, there's no saying McGonagall will even believe me. She's not exactly my biggest fan, you know."

"She doesn't hate you _that _much," Peter said, though he sounded rather unsure. "She just gets cranky with you because you never do your homework."

"Well, whatever," Sirius retorted. "I still won't say anything."

James made a small contemplative humming sound. "Well, maybe there's something we could do then. I heard about this spell that turns people's hair weird colours, maybe we could try that, get them back –"

"We're first years, James," Sirius snapped, "Even if we could pull off a spell like that, they'd just come after you guys too. Trust me; I'd love more than anything to get them back, but… Aren't you supposed to just ignore bullies and they'll get bored and stop?"

"Mate, you've just bled through your scarf. I'd say the time for ignoring it has passed," James said. Sirius moved the red and gold scarf away from his nose and folded it over again, pressing it back against his face where it was already slick with his blood.

Sitting by the fire, Remus frowned, guiltily. Despite the nagging voice in his mind that told him getting involved would only lead to trouble, he snatched up his wand and the book he'd been reading and hurried over to the other boys. They all looked up in surprise as he stood in front of them.

"Pinch your nose just under the bridge and lean forward so you don't choke on the blood," he said quickly to Sirius, flicking through the book, hunting for the page he needed. The dark haired boy raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I get nose bleeds quite often," Remus reassured him, "Trust me."

With a shrug, Sirius followed the instructions. James and Peter merely looked at the smaller boy in confusion. Ignoring them, Remus continued scanning over pages until he finally found the passage he was looking for. Quickly reading over the instructions, he pointed his wand directly as Sirius' face.

"_Episkey!_" he said firmly.

Sirius blinked and started slightly as the spell took effect, lowering his scarf to see the flow of blood had stemmed to the slightest trickle. "Wow, thanks." He touched his nose, wiggling it from side to side.

Remus frowned. "Sorry, that was my first try so it probably didn't work that well. You should go see Madam Pomfrey, she'll fix it properly." Sirius looked rather troubled. "Don't worry, she won't ask any questions."

The dark haired boy nodded but didn't stand up. "I think I'll be alright. It's not really that sore anymore," he said, smiling at the smaller boy as he wiggled his nose again.

James looked up at Remus from his seat on the couch, a mixed expression of appreciation and surprise on his face. He reached out and took the book from Remus' hand.

"'_Practical Charms for the Practical Wizard_,'" he read from the front cover and began flicking through the pages. "Wow, these are third year charms, at least. I knew you were good but that's seriously impressive." He laughed as Remus flushed and shuffled his feet, staring at the ground.

"It's a very simple spell, really," he said quietly. "Anyone could do it." James looked unconvinced and somehow smug while Peter stared up at him rather shocked. Sirius laughed from behind his scarf as he nonchalantly scrubbed the blood from his face.

"It was a group of Slytherins," James explained while Sirius continued to clean himself off. "That's how he broke his nose. A bunch of them ambushed him the in the hallway on the way back from the bathroom. See, most of them are related to him, and they're not all that happy about him being sorted into Gryffindor."

Remus wasn't surprised; he remembered the incident from earlier in the year. He nodded vaguely and began chewing worriedly on his thumbnail, berating himself for getting involved despite his better judgement. James was still flicking through the Charms book.

Sirius lowered his scarf, his nose now obviously back to its smaller, straighter and less purple state, and snorted bitterly at James' comment. "They're not _at all_ happy about me being a Gryffindor." He wiggled his nose once more and pulled a face. "I wish I knew what that jinx Malfoy used was. It felt like I was being hit in the face with a sledgehammer."

"Malfoy's a seventh year! And a _prefect_! He shouldn't be jinxing first years!" Peter cried suddenly.

James nodded along with him. "I seriously think you should report him," he said but Sirius cut him off once more.

"Let it go, James. I'm not going to go rat on him or any of the others, so leave it alone. I'll just have to come up with some way to get him back, some way that doesn't get you two added to his hit list–"

"Ah, I'm sorry, but I sort of have to go now," Remus blurted rather suddenly, holding out his hand for the Charms book James was still holding. All three boys looked up at him with rather surprised expressions and Remus practically snatched the book back. He hurried away from them and collected his bag, fleeing from the common room and up to the dormitory, followed by the bewildered looks from the other boys.

Cursing himself for ever interfering, he entered the dorm, dumping his bag on top of his trunk and slumping onto his bed. "You're an idiot, Lupin," he muttered to himself, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, fisting handfuls of his sandy hair. "That's _not_ the way to avoid drawing attention to yourself."

With a frustrated noise, he stood and started to change into his pyjamas. He was curled up in bed, pretending to sleep, when the other boys entered a few minutes later.

* * *

November vanished but the cool weather it had brought remained and Remus woke on the second of December, the day of the full moon, to find snow had fallen on the Hogwarts grounds. From the window in the first year boys' dormitory, high in the Gryffindor tower, the world was a sea of white. The forest was no longer a mottled jigsaw of brown and green and deep, looming black, but iced across the peaks of the trees with crisp, white frost. The lawns were carpeted by layers of deep snow, the castle itself camouflaged against the pale-clouded sky by the ice and sleet that covered the halls and turrets and towers, clothing it in white. The lake alone remained untouched by winter's frosty hand and lay nestled in a frozen bed, eerily calm and smooth; a glossy, black face in a pale land.

Remus, however, felt it couldn't have come at a more inopportune time. The bitter, snapping cold that hung over the grounds would only serve to make his transformation that evening all the more unpleasant. The previous week had already been difficult, the wolf's presence within him unusually strong, stronger even than last month, making him feel continuously light-headed and easily distracted. Combined with his usual lack of appetite and a week of sleepless nights, the Thursday of school before his transformation was painfully long and exhausting.

As he sat, that afternoon, on his bed in the Hospital Wing, Potions textbook and notes spread across the crisp linen sheets, he swore he'd never found homework more difficult. There wasn't anything to distract him being that he was the sole patron of the Hospital Wing and the room was all but completely silent, yet still he found his concentration slipping. After half an hour of staring at the same question, a multitude of thoughts and queries and potential answers swirling in a jumbled stew in his mind, Madam Pomfrey appeared at his side.

"Do you need help with that?"

Remus looked up at her, rather surprised. Though the matron had always been kind to him – strict yes, but kind all the same – she had never really spoken with him about anything other than his transformations. She no longer appeared uncomfortable with him or his lycanthropy but their relationship was still slightly awkward. She had seen what he did to himself during the full moon, and it obviously concerned her. Several times during the past few months, he had caught her watching him with an unusually maternal expression of worry on her face.

"Potions homework, is it?" she said, peering at his notes. Remus nodded. "What exactly are you having trouble with?"

She pulled up a visitors' chair, carefully straightening her white robes as she sat down while Remus explained the problem. He couldn't help but feel slightly embarrassed at needing help; it wasn't something he was at all used to.

Pomfrey pursed her lips as she considered the question and leant in close as she spoke. "Potions is a very exact science," she said, "But, what people often don't realise is that it's very instinctive too. While aspects have to be done a certain way to get the right results, the best potion makers don't stop and carefully consider which ingredient to add next. They use their intuition and do what comes naturally." She pointed to one of the questions that had been giving him difficulty. "Like this one. What is the first answer that comes to you when you see it?"

The question read, "What colour is the antidote for infection, produced from an infusion of crushed scarab and gumwart root, stirred twice counter clockwise?"

Remus answered with the first logical thought that came into his head. "Purple, but –"

"No buts," Pomfrey said, "Purple is right."

"But there are lots of other colours it could be. I mean, in most potions, gumwart root turns the solution brown, and I've read that sometimes it turns red when mixed with the right ingredients and –"

The matron held up her hand and Remus stopped abruptly. "Remus, why was purple the first answer you thought of?"

He frowned. "Well, all the potions we've studied and that I've read about that contain scarabs are purple, and I know that they're a very potent ingredient."

"So, using that logic, why would you think that answer was wrong?"

"Because I didn't know for sure. And, well, I thought maybe it was a trick question." Remus couldn't help but feel slightly sheepish now. "Purple seems so obvious that it couldn't possibly be right."

Pomfrey laughed. "The problem you have, Remus, is that you over-think everything. You try to disqualify every other answer and completely justify your final one, but that doesn't work with Potions. There are often several different solutions and methods, all with varying levels of efficiency. You have good instincts, and if you just follow them, most of the time they'll lead you to the right answer."

Remus smiled rather ironically. "But that's part of the problem," he said, glancing up at the matron with a shy smile. "My instincts generally tell me not to drink things that are purple."

Pomfrey smiled and laughed and laid a fond hand on the boy's head.

* * *

It was dark when Remus awoke. His head felt thick and heavy, thoughts and memories dragging themselves lazily across his mind as he tried to remember where he was and why. He could barely recall anything that had happened before his transformation and had only a vague recollection of being lead towards the tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow. Beyond that, there was nothing.

The singularly active part of his mind realised that there was something amiss about it being dark. That meant it was night. That also meant that he had slept through the entire day following the full moon, possibly more. He tried to shift his body but stopped, a sudden scream of pain tearing up his side from his ribs and several other places all at once. But he didn't utter a sound; he was too exhausted even for that.

From beyond the white curtains drawn around his bed, he could hear voices, deep in hushed discussion. Blinking heavily and trying to mentally shake the cobwebs from his head, he focussed on what they were saying.

He recognised Madam Pomfrey's voice first. "They're getting worse," she was saying. "If his wounds continue to grow more severe I don't know what I'll be able to do for him."

"They can't be that bad, can they Poppy?" Remus identified the voice as Professor McGonagall.

"He broke at least two of his ribs, snapped the tibia of his right leg clean in half, shattered his collarbone and tore his arms, chest and back to shreds, and those are only his more superficial wounds. He wouldn't have lasted long alone before he bled to death. He's only eleven, Minerva; there is only so much he can take."

"Was he conscious at all during the day?" It was a man's voice and familiar, yet in his daze, Remus couldn't work out who it was.

"I tried to wake him several times but he was never lucid. He was just too exhausted. He's most certainly not going to be able to go back to class for several days. At this point, I have no idea how long I will have to keep him here until he's recovered."

"You said earlier that most of his injuries were already healed, though," McGonagall said.

"They are, or nearly, at least. He still has heavy bruising and quite a few of the scratches were too deep to fix easily but that isn't what I'm worried about." Pomfrey sighed. "He's young and heals fast, and really is a lot stronger than he looks, but it is his mind that troubles me. The transformations exhaust him completely and he barely allows himself time to recover before he throws himself back into his schoolwork. If this continues, I don't know if he'll be able to cope, particularly if he won't remain here long enough for me to help him."

She paused briefly and Remus could almost hear her plucking up her courage to speak again. "I know you feel he deserves this opportunity, Headmaster." Remus realised the other voice obviously belonged to Dumbledore. "And I agree completely; he's one of the sweetest, most intelligent boys of his age I've ever known. But I just don't know if it's right for him to be here. For his sake."

Dumbledore didn't reply.

"I think that Poppy is right, Albus," McGonagall said. "He's very bright and he works well, but he hasn't made any friends. He's been here for three months now, and he still sits by himself and never speaks, not to the other students or during class discussions. He even sits alone during meals."

"I think I know why that is, Minerva, but that is his decision," Dumbledore said.

"Albus, I know he may want to be here and that he deserves to be just the same as any other child, but I don't think he's happy. And if Poppy is right and it comes down to a question of his wellbeing, perhaps the best thing we could do for him is send him home."

The Hogwarts headmaster sighed. "I will talk to him when he wakes up. I do not want to make any rash decisions without first speaking with him. Perhaps I can convince him to make a few changes to his current lifestyle." He sighed again and Remus could hear both Pomfrey and McGonagall making sceptical sounds. Dumbledore continued, "Until then, we shall see. It would be best if we use what is left of the night to our advantage and get some sleep. We can discuss this again tomorrow."

From beyond the curtain there were sounds of shuffling feet as McGonagall and Dumbledore departed from the Hospital Wing and Pomfrey moved towards Remus. Hastily, he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep, not wanting her to realise he had heard their conversation. As she silently checked his injuries, he didn't even realise as unconsciousness prevailed and he drifted off again.

* * *

When Remus next awoke there was sunlight streaming in through the high, arched windows of the Hospital Wing. It took several moments of strenuous blinking to clear the fog from his head and adjust to the glare. Guessing, he would have said it was around midday. He certainly felt better than he had the previous night, though his body felt heavy and a deep ache radiated out from within him.

It was testament to just how exhausted he was that it took several minutes to notice that Professor Dumbledore was sitting at his bedside.

The elderly headmaster smiled kindly from behind his half-moon spectacles. Remus hastily tried to sit up but the professor placed a hand lightly on his chest to hold him down.

"It would be best for you to not try and sit up, Remus," he said softly, "Best for both of us, in fact. Madam Pomfrey would not forgive me for allowing her charge to aggravate his injuries."

With a rather pained sigh, Remus relaxed back against the mattress and Dumbledore smiled. "How do you feel," he asked, peering down at the boy.

Remus released a deep breath. "Tired, Professor," he replied and was surprised to hear his voice hoarse and strained.

Dumbledore chuckled, appreciatively. "Yes, I'm sure you are." Quite suddenly, a pensive expression rose on his face and he looked thoughtfully down at the boy. "I wish I could say I am here only to see how you are doing, but I'm afraid I need to talk to you about something rather more serious."

Remus winced slightly and pulled himself into a more upright position. He knew where this was going. "It's alright, Professor. I already know," he said, looking away rather guiltily. "I heard you and Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall talking last night. I'm sorry, I couldn't help it."

Unexpectedly, the headmaster smiled slightly. "That is quite alright, Remus. It saves having to explain myself again. Eavesdropping is convenient like that."

In a moment of uncharacteristic abandon, Remus suddenly found himself speaking, words bursting forth from his lips without any warning.

"Please Professor, don't send me home," he blurted, all the emotions and thoughts and arguments he had tried to contain spilling out in a jumbled mess. "I'm not unhappy, I swear I'm not; I love it here at Hogwarts. This is the happiest I've honestly ever been. And, maybe that's not saying much, but please, I'll do anything it takes, just don't send me home. Please!"

Dumbledore laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder and the boy quieted down, an embarrassed flush spreading colour through his pale cheeks. "Please, Remus, do not worry yourself. That is a last resort and one I hope to avoid at all costs. There is still something that I need to talk to you about, however."

Remus squirmed anxiously.

"As you heard last night, Professor McGonagall and I have both noticed a rather distinct lack of interaction between you and your fellow students," the headmaster said. "I was curious as to why that is, Remus. From what I know of you, you are not at all unfriendly, so why do you distance yourself from them?"

Remus was silent for several moments, hunting for a way to explain his actions that didn't sound quite as pathetic as he thought the truth did. Dumbledore settled a penetrating look on him, his pale blue eyes piercing, and the boy sighed and gave in.

"My father told me that I shouldn't make friends while I'm here," he said in a very quiet voice. "If I do, they might find out what I am and I'd be made to leave."

Dumbledore nodded, solemnly. "That is much as I expected," he said. "But perhaps, Remus, the alternative is no better. However intelligent he may be, there is a chance that your father is wrong. It is never bad to make friends, Remus. In fact, it's something I very much encourage."

"But, if they find out what I am –"

"Then, they may just surprise you. Not everyone in the world has the same opinion of werewolves as you have been led to believe. Look at your teachers. When I first informed them that you would be joining their classes, many of them were…" He paused for a moment before smiling, almost teasingly and continued, "Shall we say, apprehensive. After meeting you, however, their minds have been changed. It has given them the opportunity to see for themselves how good and kind, how _human_ you and those like you are if simply given the chance to show it.

"I do not want to send you home, Remus, but I have to put your wellbeing first. Your transformations are beyond anyone's control, but your happiness is not, and right now, I feel this is the solution. All I ask is that you give your classmates a chance; whatever happens after that can be dealt with as it comes. Can you do that?"

Remus looked away, chewing worriedly at his thumbnail. Everything his father had ever told him was contrary to what Professor Dumbledore was saying. He certainly wasn't as unhappy as his teachers seemed to think. He loved Hogwarts, being here was what he had always wanted, but if he was completely honest with himself, he knew something was missing.

He was lonely, more so than occasional visits to the groundskeeper could combat. He wanted friends, he wanted relationships, he wanted to be able to talk to his classmates, his roommates, and feel comfortable and happy with them, as though he wasn't betraying everything his father had ever taught him. He wanted, more than anything, to be like any normal eleven-year-old boy. But that wasn't the case. He knew the dangers, he knew what would happen if someone found out about him. Could he really risk losing his only chance at some semblance of a future because he was feeling slightly lonesome?

"Can you do that, Remus?" Dumbledore asked again.

Looking up at his headmaster, Remus swallowed heavily and nodded, hoping against hope he wasn't making a mistake. Dumbledore smiled at him and rested his hand on the boy's shoulder again.

"Thank you, Remus," he said. "Remember, people may surprise you."

Despite how much he wanted to, Remus couldn't bring himself to believe that.

* * *

_A/N: And we are done! __I'm still not sure if I like this chapter or not. Some parts are fine, others are iffy. Whatever._

_The new part I had to write was the fight between James and Sirius, and the interruption of the Slytherins. I think it came out okay. It's not quite as snappy as I wanted it to be, but my writing does not lend itself well to snappiness (too much description and flowery crap, meh). I hope I made up for James being a dick by making him kind of fail at the insult thing in this chapter, and making him apologise and make the first move towards reconciliation. Because, I just want to clarify, I love James, and all his dorky glory. So, I'm glad him and Sirius are friends now. Hopefully, you all are too (glad, not friends... though I hope you are all friends, as well :D)._

_And, I want to make it clear right now (because flourish-blotts keeps teasing me about this) with the whole Remus and Lily friendship, IT IS ONLY A FRIENDSHIP. I have no problems with this ship, but for the sake of this story, and my obsession with keeping it as canon as possible, they will NEVER get together, even if it seems like I'm heading in that direction with their relationship. They are friends. That is all. Thank you._

_So, I think that's all I've got to say. Please read and review! I love hearing from people, it makes me giddy checking my email and seeing little review notices waiting for me. So, please, please, please review!_

_The next update will be some time in the next month - I'm determined to try and get my latest chapter finished before posting anything more here, so hopefully that happens sooner rather than later._

_Until then... ¡adiós! _


	6. Chapter IV: A Blue Christmas

_A/N: So, I'm back. I can't apologise enough for the late, late, **late** update. I had all these grand schemes to finish the chapter I'm currently writing before uploading this. I've been saying that for a while, but this time I was determined. But, once again, my plans never quite came to fruition. Oh well, it'll happen eventually. In the meantime, I give you the next chapter._

_I hope you enjoy :)_

* * *

**Of Wolf and Man**

**Chapter IV**

A Blue Christmas

_In which the yuletide season arrives and our main protagonist is struck down by several different forces of nature._

Sirius was sulking.

He sat in the Gryffindor common room, slumped in a window seat, his dark haired head propped solemnly in his hands, staring out into the swirling mist of snow beyond the glass pane. He couldn't help but think that this was just his luck, to be stuck at Hogwarts, alone on Christmas Eve. His friends had both rushed home to their families as soon as they had been given the chance. Not that Sirius could really begrudge them that, no matter how much he may have wanted to. After all, James had said that his parents didn't mind having an extra person for Christmas and he was welcome to come. Unfortunately, Sirius had been forced to turn the offer down, and remain at Hogwarts at the instruction of his own parents.

Even since that fateful September night when the Sorting Hat had placed him in Gryffindor, Sirius' relationship with his parents had been on tenterhooks. Strained to begin with, finding himself sorted into the" house of the enemy", as his mother so succinctly put it, had fractured the already fragile bond between Sirius and his parents. The months of silence that had followed had been expected, but far more hurtful than he could have anticipated.

The only reprieve Sirius had concerning his sorting was that he wasn't in Hufflepuff; they would never have forgiven him for that.

Several days earlier, before Professor McGonagall had come around to collect the names of the students remaining at school, Sirius had received a letter from his parents, his first since September. It told him, more or less, that while they were able to grudgingly accept his insubordination they were by no means ready to face him yet and he was to stay at Hogwarts for the duration of the Christmas break. They had also told him that he was, on no uncertain terms, allowed to spend Christmas with any "Muggle-loving blood-traitor" friends that may offer someplace else to stay. Though he would have much rather spent the holiday season with the Potters, Sirius felt it was far too early to deliberately throw his somewhat accidental rebellion in his parents' faces and abided by their orders.

So there he was, being a good, obedient child, sitting by himself in Gryffindor tower, bored out of his mind, while everyone around him rejoiced and celebrated the yuletide season with their friends and family.

Well, not quite everyone.

Sitting nearby, curled up in an armchair far too big for him, was Remus Lupin. If it had been any of the other first year Gryffindors, even one of the girls, Sirius would have viewed the other student's presence with good spirits. Here was someone to talk to, someone to pass time with, someone to keep him from dying silent and unnoticed in the corner from chronic boredom. Unfortunately for Sirius, his companion was Remus Lupin, the small, pale boy who had become rather infamous amongst the Gryffindor first years as being the most antisocial person to have ever existed. He was never rude or offensive, quite the opposite in fact, but always seemed painfully uncomfortable if ever a situation arose where he was required to talk to anyone. The only person he seemed even mildly comfortable with was Lily Evans who sat with him in Charms. But even then, she did most of the talking.

Sirius couldn't help but be curious about the boy. They had never really spoken, but it was difficult to avoid someone with whom you share a room, so Sirius had observed enough of the other boy to know there was definitely something more to him under his shy demeanour. The incident last month had convinced him of that; there weren't many first years with the know-how to heal a broken nose, and even fewer who were inclined to do it for someone they had no particular friendship with or inclination towards.

Sirius knew nothing personal about him, no one did, but it seemed that that was just the way Remus wanted it.

It was one particular thing Sirius had observed about Remus Lupin; he was desperate to be unnoticed. He was very good at blending into the background, appearing completely unremarkable and attracting as little attention to himself as was possible. Though he was one of the best in every class, he never volunteered answers during discussions or announced when he was the first to finish a task. This behaviour continued outside of their lessons as well. When he could, he avoided frequenting populated areas and preferred to sit by himself in some out of the way corner, away from people. He did his very best to slip by unnoticed by the general populace and was successful in most cases.

This habit was so profound that several times already he had literally disappeared. He wouldn't return to the common room after class in the afternoon and would be inexplicably absent for a day or so before turning up again, looking pale and slightly ill but acting as though nothing had happened. No one bothered asking because, in all honesty, most of the others didn't even notice he was gone.

However, Sirius had noticed.

And not knowing what was going on was starting to drive him crazy.

Perhaps, he thought to himself as he stood up, it was time to get some answers.

The large chair that Remus was sitting in had obviously been made for someone significantly larger than him and swallowed the small boy almost completely. Utterly unsurprisingly, he was reading. Sirius couldn't remember a time outside of class when Remus wasn't reading or doing his homework, two things that, in Sirius' mind, weren't all that different. His legs were folded underneath him, the book propped up on his knee, tawny hair flicking forward and trying for his eyes.

"Hi Remus," Sirius said loudly, plonking himself down in the chair next to him. Remus looked up, his eyes both wary and somewhat surprised. "I just thought I'd come and see how you were doing this fine Christmas Eve. So, how are you?"

Remus stared at him and blinked several times in quick succession. "Uh… I'm fine."

"Jolly good." Sirius grinned at him in a way that James said made him look utterly mad. "So, how come you're stuck here too? I thought you'd go home to your family like everyone else."

"Um… my parents are out of the country," Remus said. Sirius raised his eyebrows and gestured for him to elaborate. "My father had to work and my mother went with him."

"Yeah, what does your dad do?"

"He works for the Ministry; the Mystifying Occurrences and Lawless Events team."

"So he's a wizard?"

Remus nodded.

"What about your mum?"

He shook his head. "Muggle."

Right, so he was a half-blood; Sirius actually felt like he was getting somewhere. Remus was being far more chatty than usual. Normally, getting two words from the boy was considered a talkative day. Maybe the Christmas spirit had lightened his mood.

"So, listen," Sirius started up again. "I was wondering, where –"

"Hey, out of our chairs, firsties!"

Sirius looked up to see several older students standing nearby, tapping their feet impatiently. He was about to argue when he noticed Remus had already vanished, having grabbed his stuff and hurried to the other side of the room.

Sirius made an agitated sound. "Fine, have them," he said, "I didn't really want to sit here anyway," and followed Remus across the room, just managing to fight off the irrational urge to poke his tongue out at the older students. As he took a spot on the ground next to Remus, he saw the sandy haired boy roll his eyes, half-irritated, half-forlorn but took no notice. Never one to be discouraged, Sirius started up conversation again without a moment's pause.

"So anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted; I was wondering, where did you vanish to a couple of weeks ago?"

Remus looked up at him steadily, completely expressionless. He didn't say anything.

"It's happened a couple of times, I've noticed," the dark haired boy continued, trying to sound casual. "You're there one day then vanish in the night sometime, aren't seen for a while then turn up again. I was just curious, that's all."

Remus continued to stare at him for a few long, silent moments. "I… get sick," he said finally. "It's sort of personal."

"What do you mean you 'get sick'? Is it serious? Is it contagious?"

Remus shuffled, eyes shifting around the room, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "No, it's not, not really… I just…" He faltered and was silent for several moments. "I'm okay, most of the time. I don't really like talking about it."

"But, where do you go?"

"The Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey looks after me."

"Right…" Sirius said, slowly and rather suspiciously. He peered closely at the small boy who had once more turned his eyes towards the book perched in his lap.

"Alright then, so why don't you like talking to people?" Remus looked up, the same wary expression on his face. "I'm just curious. I mean, I know you're shy and all, but we've been here for months and you still don't really talk to anyone. And it's not as if you can't function in social situations or anything like that. You just don't seem to like people."

Sirius waited for a response.

Remus looked away. "I don't dislike people," he finally replied in a distant voice. "I just don't really know what to say. I don't have much experience."

"What do you mean?"

Remus shuffled awkwardly again. "I'd never really talked to anyone other than my parents before I came here." His face suddenly took on a rather bitter, self-mocking expression as he continued. "Actually, I don't think I'd ever met someone my own age before this year."

"Seriously?" Sirius exclaimed, his eyebrows leaping high on his forehead.

Remus shrugged and nodded vaguely.

Sirius stared at him for several moments trying to regain some composure before snorting. "Well, whatever, you shouldn't let that stop you. Look at me. I can hold perfectly good conversation without offending anyone too greatly and I'm hardly the most tactful person around."

"I've noticed," Remus muttered under his breath. In spite of himself, Sirius laughed.

A huge yawn crept up on Remus and he tried to stifle it, rather unsuccessfully. "Ah, sorry, but I'm kind of tired," he said, rather unnecessarily.

"I figured," Sirius replied with a smirk.

Remus merely flushed slightly and waved a vague hand in the direction of the dormitories. "I'm just going to… go to bed then…" He gathered his things together and stood up.

Sirius looked up at him from the ground. "Well then, I'll see you tomorrow. Merry Christmas!" He couldn't keep from grinning at him impudently. Remus shot him a rather pained look before murmuring, "Merry Christmas," as well and vanished up the staircase to bed.

Sirius leant back on his hands and contemplated. All things considered, that hadn't gone as badly as it could have. He was actually rather impressed with the other boy's staying power; he had expected him to extract himself from the conversation quite some time earlier.

Sirius remained in the common room for a long time, until the fire on the other side of the room had stopped flickering and crackling quietly and had faded to glowing rusty embers. A plan was beginning to form in his wily mind, a scheme to draw Remus Lupin out of his shell, to find the real answers behind all the questions that surrounded him. By the time Sirius did finally retire and entered the surprisingly chilly and dark dormitory above, several workable plans were circling his mind; all he had to do was wait for the time to strike. As he lay in bed thinking about his crafty schemes for the next day and the Christmas presents that would be waiting for him in the morning, Sirius had no trouble falling into a deep and content sleep.

* * *

Sirius awoke the next morning to a nearly silent world filled only with the hushed sounds of serenely falling snow and his own steady breathing. It took only a few moments before he realised with a start and a brilliant grin that it was Christmas. With the enthusiasm only a child could muster, he threw back his covers, oblivious to the chill of the winter morning, and wrenched open his hangings. The pile of presents stacked neatly at the foot of his bed was the best greeting he could remember having.

It took only minutes for him to tear them all open and he sat back on his bed, admiring the lot. James and Peter had given him a collection of various sweets, from Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans – an old favourite – to a tall stack of cauldron cakes. There was the obligatory pouch of galleons from his Great Uncle Alphard and an assortment of Muggle comics about some bloke who wore tights and called himself Batman from his cousin Andromeda and her Muggle-born husband Ted.

It was with a slight pang of guilt that he reread the small, hastily written card from his younger brother, Regulus. Though they weren't exactly close, Regulus was perhaps the only member of Sirius' household that didn't seem aghast at his sorting and, regardless of current circumstances, still appeared to admire his older brother on some abstract level. At least, that was how his letters sounded. Despite how much Regulus annoyed him at home, Sirius actually found he missed the little twerp. However, such feelings were forgotten as he turned his eyes to the immaculately wrapped quill set sent to him from his parents. With a bitter grin he imagined what his father must have been thinking as he sent it off; at least if the boy can do well in his schoolwork he won't be a complete embarrassment.

That gift would find itself stoking the common room fire before the end of the day.

In all, it was good haul and Sirius lay back down on his bed, content and sated, munching on his Every Flavour Beans. It was only by chance that he glanced across the room to Remus' bed opposite him. Popping another bean in his mouth, he checked his watch; it was half past nine. A curious frown creased his forehead, knitting his smooth black brows together. Remus was traditionally the first of the boys up in the morning, on both school days and weekends. Yet despite that, his hangings were still drawn and there were no signs of life. Sirius shrugged and continued eating his beans. After all, he thought, if you can't sleep in on Christmas day, when can you?

With a rather sly and curious grin, he peered down towards the end of the other boy's bed to inspect his pile of gifts. He regretted the move almost immediately. Rather than a pile, only one present sat there, a straight, rectangular shaped thing that Sirius was confident was a book. An overwhelming surge of pity welled inside him for his quiet roommate. Here Sirius was, basking in the presence of his hoard of gifts while Remus only received one. He was just contemplating whether or not he should wrap some of his pastries up and give them to him when the other boy's hangings drew open and Remus emerged, looking pale, even for him, and surprisingly tired for the long night's rest.

Sirius swung his legs around the side of the bed and sat up, chewing his lip nervously. Remus didn't seem aware of the eyes on him and began hunting in his trunk for clothes.

"Um… hi," Sirius said and the other boy looked up from beneath his scruffy shock of sandy hair, blinking heavily as though trying to clear his eyes.

"Oh, hello," Remus replied. "Merry Christmas," he added, with a tiny smile.

"Yeah, right, Merry Christmas. Ah… do want some beans?" Sirius thrust out the bag in his hand.

Remus shook his head and looked away. "No, thank you." He looked almost sick at the idea.

Grabbing an armful of clothes, Remus disappeared into the bathroom, carefully closing and locking the door behind him. Still chewing his lip in a part nervous, part curious fashion, Sirius too grabbed an outfit for the day and quickly shrugged it on. He didn't even notice that Remus had come back into the room until he was walking past him on his way out, bag slung over his shoulder.

"Hey!" Sirius called and Remus stopped, turning to look at him curiously. "You ah… you didn't open your present."

Remus blinked. "My present?" He frowned and glanced back at his bed. "Oh, right…"

Sirius followed him back across the room and sat down on James' bed, next to Remus'. With careful and precise movements, the other boy opened his gift, unpicking the tape that held it together, careful not to rip the paper. Sirius' assumption proved right when finally, a paperback book fell out onto his lap.

It was a Muggle novel, that was obvious from the first glance, and what else was obvious was how old it was. The cover was torn and tatty, faded letters and pictures melding into a sepia-toned pool of indistinct colour and lettering. The pages were flimsy and worn and looked tea stained in several places. Sirius' pity for his small roommate rose at the sight of desolate looking book – that was until he saw the expression on Remus' face.

There was a small smile lighting the boy's face that Sirius had never seen before. Remus turned the book over in his hands, read the passages on the back and flicked through the pages, cheerfully inspecting the novel. Sirius couldn't believe it. How could he be so happy? It was Christmas, and not only did he get just one gift but it was a mouldy, old, falling-to-pieces book that was obviously second – if not third or fourth – hand.

Before he could even think about stopping himself, Sirius spoke. "It's a book." He couldn't keep the incredulity from his voice.

Remus looked up at him, his expression caught somewhere between utter confusion and amusement. "Yeah, you ah… you know, read them," he replied, his eyebrow quirking briefly.

"What? Yeah, I know that. But why are you so happy?"

His face finally settled on confusion. "It's what I wanted."

"But it's all old and faded and falling apart."

The sandy haired boy flushed and stared down at the book in his hands. Guilt spread up through Sirius' body at a creeping pace. Though it wasn't something he could ever empathise with, having no personal experience, Sirius suddenly realised that Remus Lupin was not a rich person. It had never occurred to him before. Though he had noticed more about the strange, quiet boy than perhaps others had, he had never taken into account what the faded, second-hand robes, the old textbooks and the general lack of personal belongings meant. The realisation that the Lupin family was obviously a poor one only served to increase Sirius' pity for the small boy.

Just as Sirius was about to open his mouth to apologise, Remus spoke. "What it looks like doesn't matter," he said quietly, still staring at his hands. There was strange sadness in his voice. "It doesn't make a difference that the cover's torn and that it's old. The words are still the same; the story hasn't changed. What difference does it make if the outside isn't what it's supposed to be anymore?"

Before the dark haired boy could respond in anyway, Remus rose to his feet. With his tatty book held securely in his hand, his bag slung over one shoulder, he walked from the room. Sirius stared after him. Though he had no idea what it meant, he couldn't help but think that there was some obscure, deeper meaning to what he'd just heard.

* * *

The sun was setting early in the pale coloured sky, painting the white winter world an eerie ash gray with its long shadows and waning light. For Sirius the day had passed slowly, sitting alone in the Gryffindor tower, sulkily eating his sweets and reading his Muggle comics. Most of the older students who had remained at school for the Christmas break had abandoned the lonely common room for the winter sunshine and the crisp snow outside. From his spot at the window, Sirius could hear the students below on the lawn giggling and chattering as they built snowmen and forts, shrieking as they pelted each other with snow, squealing gleefully as they slid down snowy hills on makeshift sleds. He liked to think that he might have been one of them had James, or even Peter, stayed with him at Hogwarts. But instead, he remained inside, determined beyond anything to have as little fun as possible to prove to them that his Christmas had been horribly lonesome and boring and that it was their fault entirely.

Remus hadn't returned to the Gryffindor tower since that morning, though that wasn't surprising. He was usually missing until dinner during the weekends, though Sirius had no idea where he went. His absence had rather effectively stalled the plans Sirius had made for getting to know the boy better and so it was that when the day finally began drawing to a close, he was determined to find his absent roommate and put that right. After all, it was nearly time for dinner and even Remus couldn't resist the reputed brilliance of the Hogwarts Christmas feast.

There was still some time left until the feast began so rather than wait by himself, Sirius instead headed out onto the cold, frosty lawn beyond the wide front doors of the Entrance Hall. As he strode across the grass, he glowered bitterly at the students around him who continued to have fun despite the resentful glares thrown their way. After stomping through the snow over towards the lake, Sirius was surprised by who he found there.

Seated comfortably in the shadow of a snow-capped beech tree, nestled in a dry and sheltered spot against its trunk, was Remus Lupin. He looked comfortable, his legs curled beneath him as he leant back into the cosy nook. There were several books, both novels and textbooks, scattered about him, evidence enough that this was where the boy had been all day. As the light faded with the setting sun, Remus began packing his things up, careful not to bend the pages of his books as he placed them meticulously in his bag.

Sirius was about to approach the small boy when several older students ran past, pelting each other with snowballs and shrieking with delight. One of them stumbled slightly on the uneven ground and fell against the tree where Remus knelt. As the older students dashed away again, the branches of the beech tree trembled with the shock of the impact, the snow that had gathered there shaking loose. With a wet and heavy slump, the snow fell to the ground.

Right on top of Remus.

For several moments, Sirius simply stared at the spot where Remus had once been, where now a large pile of particularly wet snow lay instead. Once the shock had passed however, the dark haired boy could do nothing but laugh. He keeled over where he stood, clutching at his stomach as he struggled to regain breath. He knew he should stop laughing, that there was a very good chance Remus didn't find the situation nearly so amusing, but he couldn't contain himself.

When finally after several minutes had passed and he realised Remus still hadn't managed to pull himself out of the snow, he drew himself back up and went over to lend a hand, still chuckling under his breath.

Digging through the snow was an unpleasant and generally soggy experience as his gloves quickly moistened in the slushy frost. Before long, his hand closed around something distinctly human shaped and he tugged hard, hauling Remus out from under the snow by his elbow.

The boy's hair was awash with snow and his lips had a vaguely blue tint to them, his cheeks flushed. He was also soaked through. He looked up at Sirius and smiled very faintly, running a hand through his sopping hair as it fell in front of his eyes.

"Thanks," he said, panting slightly to catch his breath in the cold air. "My arms got tangled in my coat and I couldn't dig myself out."

Sirius nodded, attempting at least to look sombre, but try as he might he couldn't help it as his mouth twisted into a mirthful smile. He snorted heavily and laughter broke his lips despite his best efforts to contain it.

"I'm sorry," he gasped between laughs, "But that was honestly one of the funniest things I've ever seen."

Rather surprisingly, Remus didn't look remotely offended. Instead, a somewhat shyly amused expression rose on his face. He smiled again and even gave a small, breathy snicker. "Glad it amused one of us," he said quietly with mock seriousness.

As he regained control of his breathing and bit back his laughter, Sirius peered at the other boy. Remus' hands – he didn't have gloves – were beginning to shake and there was a distinct shiver in his breath. In a rare moment of sensitivity, Sirius realised how cold the other boy must be and nodded back towards the castle. "Come on, we should head inside. The feast should be about to start. Besides, I've heard Madam Pomfrey can be bloody scary around this time of year; the last thing you need is to get sick."

Remus nodded shakily and shrugged his bag on properly. They set off across the lawn towards the castle, walking together in a surprisingly comfortable silence. As they walked, Sirius pondered. The plans and schemes he had created in order to get to know the boy next to him hardly seemed necessary. He realised that maybe Remus Lupin wasn't quite the antisocial linchpin the past few months had led him to believe. He'd just never been given the opportunity to prove otherwise.

Just as they began to climb the steps up to the great oak doors leading to the Entrance Hall, both boys lost in thought, luck dealt Remus another blow. A particularly strong gust of wind swept across the lawn of the school, stirring snow and what few fallen leaves there were, whipping at their coats. It struck the two boys with surprising strength, and both of them slipped on the already icy steps. Sirius managed to cling to the stone railing to keep from falling, Remus wasn't so lucky. With a painful grunt and a wet thud, he fell backwards into the snow at the bottom of the steps.

Sirius turned back to see if he was all right. Remus lay flat on his back in the snow, a distinctly spiteful look on his face as he glared up at the sky. "The forces of nature are conspiring against me," he grumbled under his breath.

Again, without intending to, Sirius laughed. He reached out a hand to help him up. "You okay?" he asked as the boy regained his feet, brushing snow from his sodden trousers.

"Yes, I'm alright." Remus sighed rather morbidly. "Today just isn't my day." There was a distinctly sarcastic twist to his voice.

Sirius grinned at him. "At least you had a soft landing," he added. Remus scowled at him for a quick moment before a smile broke out across his face and they both chuckled. Together, they mounted the steps again and vanished inside to the feast awaiting them in the Great Hall.

* * *

After the events that had taken place on Christmas Day and the unexpectedly entertaining conversation that had sustained him through the feast that evening, Sirius' outlook had been altered. He was surprised by how much he enjoyed Lupin's company. He was certainly a strange kid – Sirius hadn't been wrong about that – something apart from the obvious lack of socialisation and the occasional Muggle reference the pure-blood boy didn't understand, but his quiet humour and warmth made him instantly likeable. And boy, was he quick. Sirius had always known the kid was smart but there was a dry, intelligent wittiness to Remus Lupin that was completely unexpected. As he went to bed that night, Sirius couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, the last week or so of holiday there was left wouldn't be as painfully lonely and boring as he had previously thought it would be.

But, the extreme introversion of Remus Lupin's character would not be repressed so easily.

In spite of the apparent change of attitude Remus had expressed the day before, when Sirius awoke in their dorm on Boxing Day he found that his slight, young roommate had already vanished. At first, he had not held that against him, after all, it had been nearly noon by the time Sirius had managed to drag himself out of bed. However, when the other boy was nowhere to be seen all day, Sirius couldn't help but feel frustrated, and more than a little hurt. Hadn't his plan worked? Hadn't he finally managed to extract Remus from that introverted bubble he kept himself in? Apparently not.

Despite that Remus continued to avoid him and was, for the most part, barely seen for the rest of the week, Sirius still managed to notice that there was something distinctly odd going on. Just as he had on Christmas morning, Remus continued to rise later and later from bed, a very unusual occurrence for him, yet still looked increasingly more pale and tired as the week drew on. Though his appetite had never been something to marvel at, he began skipping meals entirely, and even when he did turn up, did little more than pick at his food and stir it around on his plate with his fork. Several times Sirius approached him, attempting again to lure him into conversation, yet found him oddly unresponsive, not in his usual cagey and elusive way, but seemingly unfocussed and easily distracted.

The final days of December dwindled by and Sirius couldn't help but worry as Remus continued to deteriorate. The small boy already looked like a good breeze could knock him down – in fact, one had – but this was something else. He began to look noticeably feverish and short of breath and, more worrying still, Sirius was sure he had heard him in the bathroom several times throwing up.

When New Year's Eve arrived, Sirius finally decided to act. He woke unusually early and approached Remus' bed as quietly as was possible for him. As he pulled back the hangings, he saw that the small boy was still lost in a deep, unmoving sleep, curled up in a tight ball on his side, hair falling across and obscuring his face. Sirius reached out and shook his shoulder.

Remus didn't respond.

Sirius shook his shoulder again, harder this time, but still there was no response.

"Remus," he said, not bothering to keep his voice down. "Hey, Remus, wake up." He continued shaking his shoulder. Remus mumbled something incoherent under his voice but didn't so much as raise an eyelid. Sirius moved away, his lower lip caught between his teeth. He peered down at the small boy lying unresponsive in the bed. His face was pale, disturbingly so, and his breathing was shallow.

An idea struck him, suddenly. He swore at himself for not considering it earlier; it was so obvious. It was the middle of winter and not yet a week ago Remus had been buried over his head in freezing snow. Of course, he had caught some sort of flu. And hadn't he said that he was prone to illnesses of some kind. Guilt tightened Sirius' chest and his stomach squirmed awkwardly; here he was sulking because Remus had been avoiding him when really, the other boy had just felt too sick to socialise. Sirius swore again; he couldn't believe how slow he'd been.

He hurriedly shrugged on his clothes and raced from the dormitory, speeding across the castle to the Hospital Wing. Remus had told him that Madam Pomfrey looked after him whenever he was sick; Sirius could only hope she knew what to do.

The Hogwarts school matron was standing over her potions cabinet taking some sort of inventory when Sirius burst in through the doors. She looked up from her task and settled her cool eyes upon him, a stern frown knitting her forehead.

"Now, I'll have none of that," she snapped. "This is a Hospital Wing; I will not permit students to run amuck in here."

"Sorry, but –" Sirius broke off as he panted, struggling to catch his breath. "It's just, a friend of mine, he's sick."

"Alright, but I can't very well treat someone without at least being in the same room as them. Where is he? "

"He's up in our dorm," Sirius replied. "I couldn't wake him up and he really doesn't look good. I thought I should come and get you."

Pomfrey frowned again and pursed her lips in a strange mingling of severity and concern. She turned and calmly walked into her office at the back of the room, gathering together several potions and her wand.

"Can you tell me what's wrong with him?" she asked.

"I don't really know; he's been pretty bad all week. But he told me that he gets sick a lot and that he comes here and you look after him."

Pomfrey stopped what she was doing and turned her head to look at him. "I'm sorry, but who is this friend of yours?"

"Remus Lupin."

A flicker of recognition widened her eyes briefly, as well as a hint of dismayed comprehension Sirius was sure he didn't just imagine. "Of course, of course," she mumbled and began bustling about again, gathering equipment.

Several moments later, Sirius and Pomfrey were both hurrying along the Hogwarts corridors, the matron armed with a small bag overflowing with medical supplies, most of which Sirius was sure were completely unnecessary. As they walked, he quickly told her about Christmas Day and Remus' unfortunate incident with the beech tree as well as the symptoms he had noticed over the week. Surprisingly, Pomfrey seemed to pay little attention to what he was saying and appeared to be berating herself rather harshly for some unknown reason; Sirius caught her several times muttering under breath about forgetting something. He had no idea what she was talking about.

Remus still hadn't stirred when they finally arrived back at the Gryffindor tower and entered the first year boys' dormitory. Almost immediately, Pomfrey turned to Sirius. "Can you please wait outside?" she asked briskly. Without waiting for an answer, she hustled Sirius out the door and closed it firmly behind her.

As it often did, Sirius' curiosity got the better of him. He crouched down on the landing outside the door and pressed his ear against the wood, hoping to hear whatever was going on inside. For several moments, he could hear nothing but the random creaks of the floor as Pomfrey moved about the room before he caught the sound of her voice, muttering to herself again.

"– should have expected this," she was murmuring. "Two in one month, of course something like this would happen. I should have seen this coming when the others started getting worse."

Outside the door, Sirius frowned. Whatever it was she was talking about made no sense to him whatsoever. Within, he heard Pomfrey mutter something different, a spell of some kind and several moments later a new voice joined hers. He could just make out Remus, murmuring and stirring in his bed as the matron's spell woke him up. There was a groan of bedsprings as Pomfrey sat down but he couldn't hear what she said next. Remus' reply was unintelligible; he sounded barely awake and distinctly confused.

Pomfrey continued to talk, her tone so quiet that from outside Sirius could only just make out the odd phrase or two. "– it's tonight – should have come to me sooner," he heard her say.

The indistinct mumbling continued for several minutes, Remus' responses no clearer than before. He only managed to distinguish two words from the conversation. "– blue moon," he thought Remus had said.

He moved away from the door to sit against the wall opposite. What on earth could "blue moon" mean? What was tonight? He was sure he must have misheard them, what they were saying made no sense.

He was so focussed on puzzling out what they meant, he didn't even notice the dormitory door as it opened. A slight cough from nearby startled him into looking up. Pomfrey stood in the doorway, all sternness completely gone from her face, replaced by a kind of maternal concern. By her side, leaning heavily on her arm, stood Remus. His face was deathly pale, hair darkened and lank. His normally clear, blue eyes were drooping, glassy and sunken, surrounded by heavy, dark circles. His gaze passed unseeingly over Sirius as he blinked owlishly and looked around. He hardly seemed conscious.

Pomfrey looked down at Sirius. Her voice was oddly subdued and soft as she spoke.

"Remus isn't well," she said. "I am taking him back to the Hospital Wing with me. He'll be staying there for a few days I think. Thank you for coming to get me."

She nodded her head to him and set off down the stairs without waiting for a reply, leading Remus who staggered obediently alongside her. Sirius followed, walking with them through the deserted common room to the portrait hole. For perhaps the first time in his life, he couldn't think of something to say.

Just before he vanished through the portal with Madam Pomfrey, Remus turned to look at Sirius. "Happy New Year," he mumbled as he passed.

As the Fat Lady's portrait swung closed behind them, Sirius continued to stare at the spot where Remus had stood. He released an ironic and slightly bitter sigh.

"Yeah," he muttered. "Happy New Year."

* * *

_A/N: So, there you go. Consider this my Christmas special... in the middle of June. Well, I never said timing was my strong suit._

_I actually quite like this chapter. There are some parts that are clunky and where the writing is really quite painful, but Sirius is a fun voice to write through. Don't get me wrong, I love Remus dearly, but he does get a bit boring after a while. Sirius - and James, as you will discover in a later chapter - have a fun kind of quirk that I really enjoy writing._

_By the way, just in case it wasn't clear here, the reason Remus got so sick was because of the blue moon, the second full moon in the space of one calendar month. I don't actually choose my full moon dates, I look them up on an online calendar so these are supposed to be the actual dates and moons in the UK in 1971 and onwards. I don't know how accurate they are, but it worked in my favour, providing the inspiration for this chapter. It's a pretty weak idea, that a blue moon would be any different for a werewolf than any other full moon, given that calendar months are just arbitrary numbers assigned to days of the year to help keep track of them but... well, I couldn't pass up the opportunity._

_I think I had something else to say, but I can't remember it now. Oh well._

_Again, I hope everyone liked it. I do love reviews, so if you are so inclined, by all means. Also, due to changes made in previous chapters, there may be a few continuity errors in this one. I just did a brief editing last night to try and rectify those incongruities that I could spot, but I might have missed some. If you find any, please do tell me, and I'll fix them up. The same goes for spelling or grammar, yadda yadda yadda._

_The next update WILL be sooner, new chapter finished or not._

_Toodles!_


	7. Chapter V: Importance of Being Rained On

_A/N: Okay, so, yeah. I suck. Four months? No excuses. I'm not even going to try._

_Sorry._

* * *

**Of Wolf and Man**

**Chapter V**

The Importance of Being Rained On

_In which our main protagonist finally takes the first step to fulfilling the obligation given to him months ago._

It was a blustery day in early March and Remus Lupin was bored. While the young boy was not normally one to spend Monday afternoon Herbology lessons slumped upon his workbench with his chin resting on his arms, the past weekend had been trying and he wasn't feeling overtly studious. The mountain of homework that had somehow crept up on him had kept him busy over the two day break. Between studying and trying to block out the raucous sounds of the pre-game fever that had suddenly infected his roommates in light of the upcoming Quidditch match, sleep, and indeed privacy, had been difficult to come by.

And so it was that Remus found himself sitting alone at his usual bench in the corner, lazily observing his classmates who sat about the room, chatting happily as they re-potted another of Professor Sprout's curious and eclectic collection. Outside of the greenhouse it was raining, a kind of slow, lazy falling of heavy droplets that splattered against the glass with a satisfying sound. Weak afternoon sun could be seen through thin patches of cloud that glowed white in the otherwise darkening sky. The result made the interior of Greenhouse One appear strangely dappled as the fading light shone through in patches and bounced off the rivulets of water making tracks down the glass.

Lily Evans sat working at a table nearby. As she filled a small ceramic pot with fresh soil, she laughed, flicking a strand of auburn hair back over her shoulder, and turned to comment to the two girls sitting with her. Immediately to her left was Annabel Scott, her black hair tied up, stray tresses falling down and framing her pale face. She rolled her large, dark eyes at Lily's remark before replying, laughing openly. Across from them sat Michelle Martin, chuckling to herself as her two friends began to tease each other. Her long brown hair tumbled free around her shoulders, the dappled sunlight catching and illuminating stands of gold hidden in the curls.

On the table next to them were the other first year Gryffindor girls. Collette Lewis and Mary Macdonald sat side by side, their heads close together, giggles and whispers passed between them like a secret language only they were a part of. From their first night at Hogwarts, they had been inseparable, their personalities so perfectly suited it was difficult to separate one girl from the other. They were even alike in appearance with matching fair skin and wavy blonde hair.

On the other side of the room, their bench top strewn with dirt and leaves and the odd misshapen form of an unfortunate plant, James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew sat. Their hands and faces were smudged with potting soil, the evidence of the short-lived dirt war they had waged against each other before Professor Sprout had relieved them of their ammunition. Now they simply sat around their table, talking and laughing loudly, apparently testing how much noise they could make before being told off again.

By far the loudest of the three was James. His hazel eyes were bright and darted constantly from his friends to the professor as though willing her to look up and notice they weren't working. His seemingly always-awry glasses were balanced precariously on the end of his nose as he jumped and fidgeted impatiently on his stool, his hands gesticulating wildly as he spoke. He was by nature constantly moving, a blazing ball of energy made of messy black hair and pointy elbows.

Next to him sat Peter. The short, somewhat chubby boy didn't talk much but listened, intently watching his companions. His blond hair curled slightly around the top of his ears and he was rocking and bouncing on his seat as he looked back and forth between his two friends while they talked. He too cast frequent glances to the teacher on the far side of the room to them, though the cautious attention he was giving her made it apparent that though he might enjoy acting up with his friends, he certainly didn't want to get in trouble for it.

The boy opposite them was, in posture at least, the complete antithesis. Sirius lounged comfortably against the table, surveying the other two with a lazy expression. His dark hair fell artfully around his face, framing his brooding grey eyes with the kind of conscious grace no twelve-year-old had the right to achieve. Despite his relaxed pose and demeanour, his voice was loud and rough as he laughed with James, the barest hint of a smirk twitching at his lips.

Almost simultaneously, as if feeling his eyes on them, all three boys turned to glance at Remus. They had been doing that more since Christmas, he noted as he quickly looked away. Ever since the end of the winter holiday a definite change had come over the trio, something Remus attributed directly to the events that had occurred over the break.

Christmas had never been a significant celebration in the Lupin household. Save for the brief time in the morning when the three Lupins would exchange what were usually homemade or cheaply bought gifts, it was a day much like any other. Because of this, Remus hadn't been particularly upset when he received a letter from his mother telling him that it was necessary for them to spend the holiday abroad in order for his father to work. In fact, he had been almost happy about the prospect of staying at Hogwarts, well aware of the unpleasant transformation awaiting him at the end of the month.

Remus had known well in advance that the full moon on the last day of December would be a difficult and painful experience. Known as a blue moon, the second full moon in the space of one month had a peculiar effect on lycanthropes the world over. For reasons unknown, werewolves were unnaturally stronger under the light of a blue moon. Wild with sheer savagery and bloodlust, on this one night werewolves were virtually unstoppable, even through magical means. Even wild and uncaged werewolves inflicted more damage on themselves during a blue moon than some could survive.

It was thankful then that blue moons only occurred every 2 to 3 years, though, Remus thought bitterly, that was still far more frequently than the saying would suggest.

The transformation and the consequent night had left Remus almost completely incapacitated for several days while he waited for his wounds to heal. It was yet another week before his body had recovered enough energy for even the most menial of tasks. Even the days before the blue moon were difficult. Dizziness, headaches, nausea, fever and delirium were all symptoms most werewolves suffered in the build-up to their transformation. Remus had known what to expect, having experienced two blue moons before already, yet hadn't counted on having to share the experience with someone else.

Sirius' presence over Christmas had been largely unanticipated and Remus still berated himself for that lack of foresight. What he could never have counted on was the other boy's dogged determination to impose his company upon Remus. Despite the attitude of indifference and self-absorption he exuded, Remus quickly leant that Sirius was insatiably curious. Disturbingly so. Remus hadn't realised quite how much the dark haired boy had noticed about him: his habits, his pastimes, and, most troubling of all, his periodic disappearances. Even though he had enjoyed the company – far more than he knew he should have – Remus had been almost happy to get sick. The interest the other boy had showed in him was worrying.

But since then, the three other Gryffindor boys had changed. Always before, they had been perfectly happy leaving Remus to his own devices. They simply kept to themselves and respected the distance Remus placed between himself and others. Yet for the past few months that they had been back at school, all three had been acting differently. At first, it was nothing particularly forward, little more than a nod or smile and a brief "hello" whenever they crossed paths. Yet soon they branched out. They would ask for help with homework questions while working late in the common room, complement him on good work in class, invite him to join them at meals in the Great Hall. Remus found the sheer subtlety of the whole scheme rather unsettling coming from the notoriously tactless trio.

The worst part about the whole experience, however, was the guilt that consumed him every time he declined this rather curiously well-crafted attempt at making contact. The feeling stemmed less from the act of turning them down and more because he knew he shouldn't. The promise he had made to Dumbledore back in December was an ever-present nagging voice, lurking in the back of his mind. He knew that if he didn't make friends he might not be allowed to come back next September, might not even be allowed to finish out the year. Even though the severity of his transformations had lessened since the passing of the blue moon, he knew Dumbledore didn't make such threats idly. For whatever his reasons, the headmaster seemed to believe it was vitally important that Remus make friends.

But it wasn't so simple. When it came down to it, Remus still heeded his father's warning. The most important thing was, and always would be, to make sure no one found out what he was, no matter what Dumbledore believed. Because of this, Remus had no idea how form any kind of relationship with James, Sirius and Peter. If anyone was going to work out his secret it would be his roommates, the only people who could truly attest to his overnight absences. Already Sirius had shown an unhealthy amount of interest into where Remus disappeared to every month.

And yet, since Christmas Sirius hadn't once brought it up. It seemed that he had bought the story Remus had sold him; that he had a mysteriously repetitive illness that cropped up frequently at suspiciously regular intervals. Remus had to admit, the timing of his pre-blue moon sickness had been a helpful coincidence.

A bell rang out sharply from within the nearby castle and Remus jumped, jerking upright on his stool. With obvious relief, the other Gryffindors began packing their bags and disappeared through the door into the rain outside, coats tented protectively over their heads. Remus watched them as he pulled himself to his feet, his face giving way to a jaw-cracking yawn that left him dizzy and his eyes watering. He swung his bag up onto his left shoulder and he too started back towards the castle.

The sky was growing darker by the minute, the Hogwarts grounds now stained an ugly, dark grey as the clouds closed over and the sun sank defeated behind the forest. The rain was heavier too; thick, vicious droplets freefalling from the angry sky, drowning the vast grass lawns and pooling in cracks in the stone courtyards around the castle. Remus hunched his shoulders and hurried towards the sanctuary of the school, his mind absorbed by thoughts of his dorm room with its warm, flickering fire and his soft, snug bed.

It was just Remus' luck that at that moment, a large, rather ungainly Hufflepuff boy stumbled into him as he hurried away from his Care of Magical Creatures class. It was also just Remus' luck that the hem at the bottom of his bag chose that particular time to finally give in to the pressure of gravity and years of toting heaving books. The seams came apart as his bag swung around his body, jostled by the Hufflepuff, and promptly dumped his books in particularly deep puddle.

Remus sighed mournfully; squeezing his eyes shut in a pained wince. "Nature hates me, I swear to God," he muttered bitterly to himself.

"Well, I can't disagree with you there," said a voice from nearby.

Remus snapped his eyes open and looked up. Sirius, James and Peter stood before him, identical smiles twitching at the corner of theirs mouths.

"I figured you were just having a bad day at Christmas," Sirius continued. He glanced meaningfully down at Remus' books where they sprawled sadly in their puddle and grinned. "But apparently I was wrong."

"It's been known to happen from time to time, Black," James quipped, smirking at his friend.

Sirius, apparently, chose to ignore the comment. "You need some help there?" he said instead, pointing his chin at Remus' book.

Remus blinked quickly several times. "Ah… thanks, but I've got it."

Pulling his wand from his pocket, he flicked it smoothly through the air, whispering an incantation. As one, his books rose up from the ground, shook themselves vigorously, throwing loose droplets of water off in all directions, and came to rest in his waiting arms. They were all saturated almost right through. Slipping his wand back into his pocket, Remus rearranged his hold on the books and looked up again. The other boys were all still watching him, their expressions now vaguely impressed.

James laughed suddenly. "You really are good at charms," he said, smirking again. His face had that same slightly smug expression it had worn months ago when Remus had healed Sirius' nose.

Despite the cold rain, Remus felt his cheeks warm. He shuffled awkwardly on his feet and cast a brief, longing glance past the boys' shoulders to the castle. He was freezing now, and soaked almost to the skin. The others, he noticed, weren't faring nearly as bad, their school coats, all obviously new, keeping them all both dry and warm. Unfortunately, Remus' second-hand coat had weathered one too many rainstorms and had apparently given up any pretence of water resistance-ness. It was also quite oblivious to the impact this had on the small boy wearing it who was fairly sure he could no longer feel his elbows.

Quite suddenly, Peter spoke up from the back of their small group. "Um, I think we should get inside. You know, before this gets any worse." He looked warily at the dark sky looming above before casting a significant glance at the pale and shivering Remus.

"Yeah, you're probably right," James said. "Besides, I'm freezing my nose off out here."

Sirius' eyes lit up and he grinned. "Now there's an idea. Imagine how funny you'd look nose-less."

"Better my nose than something else!" The two laughed and set off towards the school. Remus wasted no time before following them.

As they walked, Peter fell into step beside him. Remus nodded gratefully to him.

The blond boy smiled in response. "You looked like you were getting pretty cold back there. You know, I think you might need a new coat."

Remus smiled rather dryly and shivered again, falling silent as they finally entered the warm, torch-lit corridors and started the long trek up to the Gryffindor common room.

Ahead of him, James and Sirius were still discussing the pros and cons of being nose-less. "Well sure, scaring people with my deformity might be fun, but it's still completely impractical. I mean, how would my glasses stay up?" James was saying.

"Hullo? Magic, you moron. If there's a way for us to turn goldfish into gobstoppers, I'm sure we can find a spell to keep your glasses on your face," Sirius replied in a rational tone, as if their debate was one of utmost importance. One of Remus' eyebrows arched as the conversation continued.

Walking next to him, Peter started laughing. "They do this all the time. Last week it was toenails."

"They're important things to discuss, Pete," James said, turning to them with an expression of mock seriousness on his face. "Who else is going to talk about them if we don't? Toenails and nose-less-ness may not be the most pleasant of topics but that doesn't mean they don't deserve our attention. We wouldn't want to be unfair now, would we?" He grinned impudently and turned back to Sirius.

If possible, Remus' eyebrow arched even further.

Quite suddenly, Peter stumbled to a stop, his face blanching as he looked ahead to the far end of the hallway.

"Oh, no."

Bearing down upon them, his face buried in a thick growth of dirty, greyed beard, his thin wooden cane clacking against the stone floors, was the Hogwarts caretaker, Apollyon Pringle.

James and Sirius immediately froze, stark still, their eyes wide. They exchanged a fleeting look.

"Did you do anything?" James asked in a hurried whisper.

"Me? No. Did you?"

"No. Are you sure you didn't do anything?"

"Yes, I'm sure! You think I'd just forget deliberately ticking off Pringle?"

"Stranger things have happened."

"I don't mess with Pringle, you know that. My arse is still smarting from when he caught us out of bed after dark last November."

Remus winced in sympathy. Pringle and his cane were both feared and revered in the halls of Hogwarts.

"Look at those floors!" Pringle bellowed, still only halfway down the hallway to them. "Look at them! Filthy, stinkin' students, you're always mucking up the floors. But I've caught you this time; I'll make you clean that up. Not me, you hear! I won't do it again, eighth time today!"

The four boys frowned in confusion and turned to look at the floors behind them. In almost perfect union, they sighed, staring sullenly at the wide trail of mud and water tracked inside by all the students flocking in from their final classes. A trail that lead all the way to the Gryffindor boys and the water dripping from their sodden cloaks.

"Think there's any way we can get out of this one?" Sirius murmured darkly. He groaned and hung his head when no one replied.

"You three should go," Remus said. James, Sirius and Peter turned to look at him in surprise. "I'll tell him it was me, I'm the wettest. No reason for us all to get in trouble."

They continued to stare at him. "No way," James stated, shaking his head, "We'll think of something." His tone, however, did little to inspire confidence.

"Honestly, it's okay. I don't mind," Remus murmured, but Sirius snorted.

"Don't be stupid, like we'd just leave you here."

When the other two nodded their agreement, Remus couldn't help the pleased flush that spread through his body.

But the feeling vanished as Pringle clattered to a halt in front of them, his bald pate sweaty and gleaming under the torchlight.

"Thought it'd be amusin' to mess up the floors, did you?" he asked, his voice a low, mad hiss. "Thought it'd be great fun to make old, mangy Pringle clean up after you, like everyone else does? Well, you're not so lucky this time. Now I've caught you I'm going to make you–"

But whatever it is he was going to make them do, they didn't find out. From the floor above them came an almighty crash that sounded distinctly like an unfortunate suit of armour clanging to the floor. Then came the unmistakable sounds of Peeves, the poltergeist, as he cackled and shrieked with glee.

One of Pringle's muddy eyes bugged out of his head. "No, no! Not again! You filthy, bloody, tit-twisting, troll-shagging shite, _no_!"

With a snarl, Pringle vanished back up the hallway, calling for Peeves' blood. He didn't look back at the boys once.

With a huge expulsion of breath, James threw back his head and laughed. "Ha! Talk about great timing. Remind me to thank Peeves next time I see him; I thought for sure Pringle had us."

"You and me both, mate," Sirius hastily agreed.

Peter squirmed and looked around with shifty eyes. "Um, shouldn't we go now? Pringle will probably come back here looking for us."

"Pete's right, we should try and get to the common room before Mr Old-and-Mangy returns," James nodded his ascent. "And quick smart too, I reckon. Peeves will be long gone by now and that'll only put Pringley in a fouler mood."

Sirius' face lit up and he winked extravagantly at his companions. "Aha, my friends! I have just the thing." He turned and hurried back down the hallway, Peter and James following immediately.

Remus trailed behind them, somewhat wary and at the same time almost a bit guilty. A little voice at the back of his mind told him his mother would be disappointed in him making a mess and then leaving it for someone else to clean up.

"Where are we going," James asked from up ahead of Remus.

Sirius tapped his nose and grinned smugly. "That's for me to know and for you to be impressed by soon enough. Just follow along, children; quickly now."

James looked for a moment as if was going to retort and narrowed his eyes threateningly, but remained silent and continued to follow along. Halfway down the next corridor, Sirius guided them to a huge tapestry hanging from the wall and held up one corner of it. Hidden behind was a steep, tall stairwell that led high up into the school.

"This comes out just down from the common room," Sirius said rather smugly. "I found it a couple of weeks ago when I was running late for breakfast."

"Why didn't you tell me about it?" James said, looking rather offended as he inspected the passageway.

"A boy's got to have his secrets, Jamie," he smirked and quickly dodged as his friend took a half-hearted swipe at his arm. "So, are we going to go up or have we decided to let Pringle catch up to us now?"

They all quickly mounted the staircase. Fresh torches flickered from the walls and the floor was suspiciously clean of dust. Remus got the distinct impression that this corridor was not nearly as secret as Sirius seemed to think. However, when they emerged they found themselves just down the corridor from the entrance to their common room, precisely as Sirius had said.

"Crumpets and cream," James said to the portrait of the Fat Lady who nodded and swung forward with a bored yawn, revealing their entrance. The common room was packed full; students crowded around the large fireplace that filled the crimson draped room with warm, wavering light. Remus quickly moved past them and hurried up the staircase to the dormitory. He lay his books down on his bed and was peeling off his coat with relish as the others entered behind him. They followed his actions and all four draped their dripping coats over the rail that hung above the heater in the centre of their room.

As James, Sirius and Peter milled about, changing out of their damp uniforms, Remus took a seat on the floor and pulled the first of his soaking books off his bed and examined it under the light from the heater. The fire within the grate threw soft, amber flickers onto the sodden paper, the darkened pages glowing with warm light.

As he took a seat with his back to the heater to warm up, Peter frowned. "Why don't you just leave them in front of the fire? Won't they dry faster that way?"

"I don't want the pages to crinkle," Remus replied, hunting his wand out the pocket of his hanging coat. "There's a spell I know that can dry them, but not if they're too badly damaged."

"Seems like a waste of time," James shrugged from next to him as he fought to stuff his shoes under his bed that already bulged with what seemed like the entire contents of his trunk. "Just write to your parents and ask them to buy you new ones."

Remus flushed and quickly busied himself with his book, wand moving as he whispered his spell, water siphoning out of the pages. Help came in the surprising form of Sirius Black, who crossed the room and threw himself onto James' bed where he sprawled elegantly on his back. "Not everyone is as spoilt and pampered as you, Potter," he drawled, peering at him with a lazy expression.

James snorted and sat next to Sirius on his bed. "Bit rich coming from you, isn't it Black?" Then he smiled and chuckled. "Get it, bit "rich"?"

Grinning, he nudged Sirius with his elbow, but the other boy shook his head tragically and sighed. James looked to Peter still smiling, but the blond boy frowned back uncomprehendingly. With a dying hope in his eyes, James turned to Remus. Remus smiled briefly before shaking his head and shrugging. "Sorry," he murmured apologetically.

"Come on, it's funny," James pleaded, staring around at his roommates. Then he sighed mournfully. "No one understands my sense of humour."

"That's because it's not humour," Sirius retorted. "Humour is supposed to be humorous, hence the name. I'm sorry to say it, Jamie, but comedy isn't your strong suit."

"What are you saying? I was built for comedy, look at me!"

Sirius laughed. "So you've finally admitted it to yourself. Well, good on you! We all knew you looked funny, we just didn't think it was polite to mention to your face."

James eyes narrowed dangerously behind his lopsided glasses, but a smile was tweaking the corner of his lips. "Polite my foot," he scoffed. "You wouldn't know good manners if they kicked you in the –"

"Like you're one to talk!" Sirius interrupted, also beginning to grin.

Smiling all the while, the two began to tease each other, swapping insults and sullies and incriminating stories back and forth between them. As the argument began to cool down, a stray comment from Peter dragged him into the fray and they began all over again on him. Peter bore it all with good spirits, raising only a few half-hearted complaints at some of their more ludicrous comments, obviously accustomed to this odd display of affection between his friends.

Leaning against the foot of his bed, Remus watched his roommates with a small smile on his face. He felt at ease, comfortable, completely safe; three things he had never thought he could feel in the company of people who didn't know of his condition. The small voice in the back of his mind that was forever reminding not to get too close was quiet for the first time in months. The unlikely possibility that he could actually make friends, friends that weren't ten-foot tall groundskeepers, was suddenly very real. Particularly as it seemed that these boys were actually interested in him. Maybe Sirius' questions over Christmas hadn't been some scheme of his to work out Remus' secret. Maybe he had simply been trying to get to know him. And hadn't all three of them made an effort to talk to him more since then?

"But you know what?" James said in a loud voice. The messy haired boy looked up from his two friends to watch Remus with a devious smile on his face, his hazel eyes glinting with mischief. "I reckon it probably wouldn't hurt for Remus to lose a couple of books. It's not like he doesn't have enough. For the first few months we were here I seriously thought he had books for hands, he read so much."

Though all three boys were looking at him now, smiling in the same slightly impish way, there was an obvious hesitation about them. Something akin to apprehension, as though none of them were entirely sure how Remus would take this comment.

Remus simply smiled. "I wouldn't mind that, actually," he said quietly. "But it would make it quite difficult to turn the page if I didn't have fingers."

James, Sirius and Peter all laughed and Remus flushed, that same pleased warmth from earlier sweeping through his body. The other three continued talking, teasing James about his own unhealthy obsessions, particularly one involving pumpkin juice and chocolate syrup. But Remus wasn't listening. With that single comment, James had quite effectively destroyed the last line of defence Remus' overly cautious instincts had built and all the doubts he had ever had about the boys and their motives vanished. He no longer cared that they were the smartest, funniest, coolest boys in the year and should never want to be friends with someone like him. He no longer cared if he was misreading them, if this wasn't an offer of friendship but simply a means to work out his secrets. Regardless of the consequences, he wanted to be here, sitting with them, talking with them.

And he couldn't help believing they wanted that as well.

The nagging warning his father had given him, so long ago, was finally silenced as he turned his attention back to the others, quietly suggesting that they should all go down to dinner while there was still some left. Smiling happily to himself, Remus Lupin stood and, together with his friends, silently left the room.

* * *

_A/N: Right, so, I said no excuses, and I mean it; there are no excuses. Literally. Lacking motivation in life kinda makes you lack motivation in everything else so... I'm sorry. I just hope I still have some readers. Any readers. A single, solo, unaccompanied, lone, solitario reader._

_But, my crappy, crappy, seriously-how-crappy-can-it-get semester of university is over now, and in celebration of both my birthday today (or yesterday, as it's now the 26th where I am) and the All Blacks winning the Rugby World Cup last Sunday (YAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!), I thought I'd give myself a present. I'm not saying my track record with chapter uploads will improve at all after this, but it makes me feel more proactive, at least._

_I'm not a big fan of this chapter. Too much of it is annoying, inner-monologue, exposition stuff, which I find really ugly to read. But I like some of the dialogue :D You'll also note the addition of Apollyon Pringle in this chapter. Previously, I had it as Filch, but I read somewhere (and I don't know how accurate this is) that Filch didn't start at Hogwarts until around 1973, and I thought that would be fun to do (if I ever get there...) And now the boys are friends, so, good news! This may be kinda rushed, but it has been a few months since the last chapter (this one being in March), and things have progressed between Remus and the others since Christmas. I just didn't show that very effectively._

_So, come early November, once my exams are over, I'll officially be on summer holiday, and have no real work to do for four months. Hopefully, in that time, I may do some writing (please, please, **please** writing-gods, let me do some writing) and I will try and upload another few chapters. That is if anyone is still reading. If no one is, then I'll probably just upload the chapters anyway, and they can float around in cyberspace and make friends with some other fanfics to keep them company._

_Until next time (I swear to god, there will be a next time, **believe in me**),_

_ta._


	8. Chapter VI: Paper Planes and Inkpots

_A/N: Late again... I think I said last time, no excuses, right? Well, seems I'm there again. I'll just say I'm sorry, and leave it at that._

_Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

**Of Wolf and Man**

**Chapter VI**

Paper Planes and Inkpots

_In which our main protagonist enjoys a happy existence with his newfound friends and certain annual customs are observed._

Over the next few weeks, Remus found that his life changed rather considerably. Though he didn't realise it at the time, that Monday afternoon had rather effectively altered the path of his entire life. Of course he was aware of how significant it was that he had made friends, but he didn't consider until years later just how different everything would have turned out if those three boys hadn't stopped to help him pick up his books in the rain.

The sudden addition of James, Sirius and Peter into his life became a completely integral part of his existence at Hogwarts surprisingly quickly. After that rainy March evening, he spent almost all of his time with them. The transition from awkward, introverted roommate to _friend_ was surprisingly easy. The next morning, though Remus woke and left the dorm before them as usual, the other boys simply came and sat with him during breakfast; no awkwardness, no hesitation, not even a break in conversation. After that, everything else fell into place. They sat together at meals, in classes, in their spare time after school. They even began studying together; that is, Remus studied while James and Sirius played Exploding Snap and Peter sorted through his Chocolate Frog card collection. They even went to the Quidditch match together, though that day was no longer mentioned in company. Not after Gryffindor lost to Hufflepuff by a margin of four hundred and twenty points, one of their greatest defeats in Hogwarts history.

James and Sirius, Remus discovered, were every ounce the troublemakers he had thought they were. Though they were never overly rude or disrespectful to their teachers, they somehow knew exactly what to do to get into trouble. Of course, the risk of getting caught was what made it so fun, Sirius told him multiple times. The problem was getting caught wasn't so much a risk as it was a guarantee. Yet somehow, despite their lack of study or effort in class and their habitual detentions, both still managed to achieve top marks in all of their subjects, which of course, only gave them confidence in their abilities to come up with even more outlandish plans to execute. Despite this, or maybe even because of it, Remus found they were infectiously easy to like.

Peter wasn't quite the troublemaker his two dark haired friends were, but he was no less likeable. Though perhaps not as academically gifted as his friends, Peter was by no means unintelligent and was trusted implicitly by all of them. He acted as lookout while James and Sirius executed whatever scheme had their attention at that moment. He was also their eyes and ears around school. Whatever gossip or news there was to know about the general student populace, somehow Peter had it. Remus found himself spending a lot of his time with the short, blond boy, particularly as exams loomed closer on the horizon and Peter begged him for help with his studies. Remus didn't mind that the task had fallen on him to tutor the boy, particularly seeing how irritated it seemed to make their notoriously impatient friends when they had to do it.

In all, the four Gryffindor boys lived together in a surprisingly well-balanced harmony. Though he never would have believed it months ago, Remus found he fit in with the rather mismatched group quite well. Though he still had his moments, like reading at the dinner table, forgetting he was supposed to be being polite and participating in conversation, it became something of an endearing character foible, something to laugh about, much like how Peter liked to sing – awfully – in the shower or James' penchant for mixing pumpkin juice and chocolate syrup together.

The only time the boys didn't spend together was in Charms. Through some unspoken agreement, Remus and Lily continued to work together, the other three sitting off to the side, leaving the two more studious Gryffindors to their own devices. Remus was almost thankful for the time away from the boys. While he liked them and was certainly finding the experience of having close friends a new and enjoyable one, the quiet conversation that filled his lessons with Lily were a welcome break. After all, he was still new this whole socialisation business.

Lily however wasn't completely without fault. Remus had been aware as the year progressed that the small, redheaded girl was not necessarily fond of Remus' roommates. It was easy to pick up the slightly frosty tone with which she spoke to him that first Tuesday when he had walked into class in the company of the boys. If he wasn't mistaken, he was sure she was slightly disappointed in his choice of friends.

For her part, Lily managed to keep her feelings to herself for a surprisingly long time. It wasn't until one Thursday morning roughly two weeks after he had begun fraternising with the boys when she finally broached the subject. She had been rather obviously stewing ever since he had made friends with them; Remus had caught her several times glaring suspiciously at the boys and rolling her eyes at their admittedly juvenile antics.

That morning, the first year Charms class had each been handed a banana and instructed to make them pirouette across their desks. While Remus turned his attention to his merrily twirling fruit, Lily took up what had become a rather common post, glaring across the room at the three other boys. Sirius, unsurprisingly, wasn't working, but sat reclined in his chair with his feet resting on the tabletop, cleaning his nails while looking thoroughly bored. Peter was slowly turning blue in the face as he desperately tried to get some sort of reaction out of his lazy banana. At one point, it gave a sudden jolt that surprised him so much he promptly dropped his wand and had to dive under his desk to retrieve it. James was already halfway through eating his banana.

With a disgusted noise, Lily turned away from them, flicking her wand at her banana with more vigour than required, sending it spinning off the table. "Tell me, why exactly are you friends with them?" she asked after retrieving her wayward fruit.

Remus raised an eyebrow and glanced across to his friends. James was peeling the last of his banana, cheerfully popping it into his mouth and laughing as Peter frantically tried to catch his that had now sprouted little wings and was hopping around the desk, trying to fly away.

He smiled and shrugged. "They're not as bad as you think."

"Really?" Lily scoffed. "They certainly seem to be. I mean, look at them. They're so…" Her hands flapped about in air as she hunted for the word. "So… silly," she finished lamely.

Remus smiled knowingly. "They're boys."

"Well, so are you, and you're not like them."

"Maybe you just haven't caught me at the right moment."

Lily rolled her eyes and smirked. "Well, fine, but you at least manage to keep your silliness under control and not disrupt everyone and everything around you."

"They're not disrupting anyone right now."

"Well," she said, her eyes narrowing, "The day is still young."

Remus watched at her for several moments, his expression suddenly serious. "Lily, come on. You don't really think they're that bad, do you? I mean, I know they aren't exactly the most focussed group and they've already had more detentions than the rest of our class combined –"

"This isn't really convincing me to give them a shot," she interrupted.

"But you should!" Remus said, emphatically. "They're fun and smart and really a lot nicer than you think."

"Nice?" Lily exclaimed, eyebrows leaping high on her forehead. "Did you know they purposely misled some Slytherin first years last week when they got lost on the seventh floor? They ended up getting trapped for an hour in that revolving corridor on the fifth floor when the staircases changed! That's not something nice people do." She folded her arms against her chest and pouted crossly, obviously ready for an argument.

Remus thought about it for a moment. While he hadn't been present when it happened, he had heard about it when the boys returned to the dormitory several minutes later, laughing about how they duped the other first years. Though he didn't actually know for sure, he was fairly certain that one of them had been Severus Snape, Lily's Slytherin friend who she had caught the train with. He was sure that had Severus not been part of that group, Lily never would have found the relatively harmless prank so offensive.

Remus returned Lily's bold gaze, though tried to phrase his next words as delicately as he could. "I know that sometimes they go a little far, but I still think you should give them a chance. You said the same thing to Annabel a few months ago, didn't you? About your friend Severus? She didn't understand why you were friends with a Slytherin. Isn't this pretty much the same thing?"

Lily's gaze hardened for a moment before she blinked unsurely and looked away, frowning. "I guess," she mumbled, though still didn't sound certain. "Alright fine, I'll admit that maybe there's more to them than I realise. But I'm not going to go become best buddies with them, alright?"

Remus laughed, "Sure" and the two got back to their work.

* * *

The sky was a mottled mess of blue and pink as the sun rose on the twenty seventh of March. Remus sat on the window ledge next to his bed, watching as spring sunlight burst exuberantly out across the castle grounds. The air was still and filled with an eerie hush as the world took its first shuddering breath of the clear, fine day. The grass on the lawns below winked with dewdrops, delighting as the sun poured down upon them after months of rain and grey skies.

Remus stood and moved away from the window, treading lightly on bare feet, his toes curling in the chill air. Despite his best efforts to keep quiet, a disgruntled and confused murmur sounded from behind the curtains of the bed beside him. Moments later, a shock of wild black hair appeared, blurry eyes squinting around the room from beneath a shaggy fringe.

"Whoo'sere?" James half yelled, half slurred, still mostly asleep. His unfocussed eyes caught sight of Remus and he relaxed. "Oh, s'just you, R'mus. Go back t'bed." He disappeared behind the curtains again.

Remus waited a few seconds before he heard the small snuffling sounds of James snoring before continuing on the way to the foot of his bed. James was always the easiest of his roommates to accidentally wake, at least in the mornings. An ant sneezing on the far side of the lake could rouse James. Fortunately, though the smallest things would wake him, he never stayed conscious for long.

Across the room, Sirius continued to snore undisturbed, scratching and growling like an angry thundercloud. Next to him, Peter's bed was silent, though Remus thought he could see the toes of a pink foot sticking out near the headboard. Peter almost never slept straight on his bed, if he slept on his bed at all. At least once a week the other boys would wake to find that Peter had fallen off his mattress and spent the rest of the night curled in a happy nest of blankets and pillows on the floor.

Opening his trunk and scooping up his clothes, Remus crept into the bathroom, still careful not to disturb his sleeping friends. He needn't have bothered however. Just as the door shut, the rumble of Sirius' snores stopped, followed soon by the telltale sounds of bedsprings squeaking as he slipped out of bed. As he changed into his uniform Remus could hear Sirius as he moved over to Peter and shook him awake. Then the two crept closer to James' bed. The following shriek told Remus plainly what had happened.

As he finished brushing his teeth and re-entered the dorm, Remus found Sirius and Peter standing over James' bed, the boy in question thrashing about on his sheets, gasping for breath with tears of laughter running down his cheeks as his friends ruthlessly tortured him with simultaneous tickling charms. Remus had known the prank was coming for days; he had spent most of the night before helping Peter perfect his charm. His feet were still itching.

The practise had been well worth it. James was already begging for mercy, though not very successfully. "Please – AH! – I can't – AHH! –" It only digressed from there.

Sirius smirked down at his friend. "Only we say when we stop, Jamie," he said with a certain amount of malicious glee, "And I don't think we're quite ready yet, are we Pete?"

"No way," Peter replied, his answering grin just as evil. "You had it on me for at least twice as long on my birthday."

Remus might have helped James out, but Peter had explained last night; it was a tradition. And besides, James should have expected it. He had been reminding them all for a week that today was his birthday. And the whole tickling tradition had been his idea. According to his logic, it was only fair that the birthday boy suffer for a while before the celebrating commenced. Remus was sure James was starting to regret the whole idea of turning twelve.

"Say it!" Sirius was instructing, his wand still covering his friend. "Say you want to snog McGonagall, and we'll stop."

James just gasped and managed to choke out between fits of laughter, "I can't!"

"Well, I guess we'll just have to keep this up all day then," Peter replied casually.

James gritted his teeth. "I want – AH! – I want to… No, I can't!"

"Say it James!"

"_I want to snog McGonagall!_" The words came out very fast and unhealthily high-pitched.

Immediately, Peter and Sirius stopped their charm and broke into gales of laughter. James fell back onto his mattress, breathing heavily. Sirius smirked down at him. "Good on you for getting that off your chest, mate. Now all you have to do is tell her."

"_What?_" James shrieked, sitting up, his eyes desperately wide. "You wouldn't!"

Sirius and Peter broke down into fresh peals of laughter, clutching at their sides and beating their fists on their knees. Remus shook his head wearily but smiled as he approached his bed and began packing his bag. "I'm sure they're just joking," he said placidly to his friend.

James turned to him, eyes wide and frightened. "You sure about that? I wouldn't put it past them."

Remus smiled. "I'm sure." He bent down at picked up James' glasses from the floor where they had been hurled off his bedside table in all the commotion. "By the way, happy birthday," he said, passing the other boy his glasses.

James smiled as if suddenly remembering, his face lighting up like the noonday sun. "Thanks!" he said, casting a dark look at Peter and Sirius who were still chuckling to themselves nearby. "At least one of my friends respects that this is a special day and is nice enough to say something. Unlike some others I know."

Sirius snorted, moving back to his bed and pulling out his clothes. "Hey, you started it. You did it to both me and Peter last year; we weren't just going to forget that."

"Well, yeah, but I thought you might be a bit more original, that's all," James said as he got out of bed. "Using my own prank on me is just tacky. You could have at least put some thought into it. After all, it's not every day a boy turns twelve."

"Merlin, James, you're not coming of age. And what do you mean _your_ prank. You didn't invent the tickling charm, you just used it a couple of times."

"Ah, but I discovered it and was the first of us to use it so thus, it is mine," James said with great pomp, pulling on his uniform.

Sirius in turn threw his pillow at James, knocking off his glasses as it struck him in the face. "You found it in our Charms book; we had to read about it for homework!"

"Yes, but I was the only one of us who actually _did_ the homework, therefore I discovered it before the rest of you."

Peter snickered from where he was sitting on his bed, lacing up his shoes. "Actually, Remus probably read that chapter long before any of us, so I'd say he discovered it."

The three boys all turned to look at him with knowing smiles on their faces and Remus blushed guiltily.

James laughed. "Okay then, Remus discovered it. I'm fine with that. Now, where are my presents?"

He received another pillow in the face for that.

As conversation quickly dissolved into an all-out pillow war, Remus picked up his bag and moved to leave the room. Sirius stopped him before he got to the door. "Oi, where're you going?" he said, kneeling on Peter's chest and hammering at him with his pillow while trying to break out of James' headlock.

"I left some books down in the common room last night," Remus replied. "I'll wait down there for you." He quickly left before they tried to drag him into their pillow fight.

True to form, that wasn't Remus' only reason for leaving. He couldn't help but feel self-conscious at James' mention of presents. He knew Sirius and Peter both had well made and probably expensive gifts to give him, but Remus certainly didn't. He had a present, but as he had neither money nor any particular expertise in the field of birthday present making, it wasn't much. He wanted to wait until later, when they were alone and James had calmed down slightly to give it to him.

The common room was surprisingly full considering that it was still early, groups of older students milling around chatting, enjoying the first fine morning they had had in months. On his way across the room, Remus spotted Collette and Mary seated together over by the window, drawing hearts and stars on the frosty glass and giggling to each other. He quickly found his abandoned books shoved under the couch by the fire and took a seat to repack his bag. While he waited, he pulled out a potions essay he needed to finish for next week, reading it over and trying to recall the points he still needed to add.

He wasn't left waiting long. Quite suddenly, Sirius and Peter exploded into the room, carting between a beaming James. Without a moment's hesitation, the two boys burst into song, belting out a loud, painful, barely recognisable rendition of 'For He's a Jolly Good Wizard'. As they sang, they made their way across the room, James swaggering between them, granting benevolent smiles upon the older students around them who watched with incredulous expressions on their faces. As they reached the portrait hole and concluded their duet with a soaring and outright excruciating final note, a rather ironic applause broke out across the room. Sirius and Peter bowed deeply and James grinned again. On the other side of the room, Collette and Mary were blushing for some reason and giggling even more than usual.

Amidst the clapping and laughing, Peter called to Remus, still sitting on the couch, "You coming?"

With wide eyes, Remus snatched up his bag and followed his friends out of the common room. "Is that another birthday tradition, then?" he asked as they made their way down to the Great Hall.

"Sort of," Sirius said. "We did it for Peter on his birthday last November, but I never got one on mine." He looked sincerely upset about that.

"Your birthday was at the start of October," James replied, "We didn't know each other well enough then to do a song and dance routine for you."

"Please tell me there isn't dancing involved too," Remus implored. The others only laughed and continued on their way down the corridor.

* * *

That evening, as the sun sunk behind the horizon and darkness seeped into the peach coloured sky, Remus sat in the common room, finishing his homework at a table near the window. His Potions essay was done and polished to the best of his ability but he had spent the last ten minutes struggling to come up with some interesting points for a Herbology paper. After all, there were only so many things that could be said about Hissing Cacti.

The room was sedate as most students were still down at dinner and, after the day he had just had, the calm and quiet was like heaven to Remus. The duet Peter and Sirius had sung as they made their way down to breakfast that morning had only been a preview for what they had had in store for the rest of the day. They frequently broke into song –halfway through Defence, in the introduction of Professor Binns' lecture about the troll-hunting legislation – and even made good on that dance routine they mentioned, Sirius waltzing James through the Entrance Hall and across the courtyard on their way to Herbology.

Aside from the singing, they had also felt it necessary to proclaim gaily at the start of each class that it was James' birthday, just in case anyone had forgotten since the previous lesson. Some teachers greeted this announcement with well wishes of their own; Professor Flitwick had happily agreed to give out no homework while Professor Slughorn in Potions brewed James a special concoction known as the Draft of Euphoria as a gift. Unfortunately, not all of their teachers were so kindly. Professors Celeste and Binns barely looked up from their desks when the boys had burst into song, and Professor McGonagall simply raised one eyebrow, clearly annoyed, and told them to sit down and practise turning their tadpoles into teabags like the rest of the class.

The final straw had come not long ago as the four boys sat eating dinner in the Great Hall. Sirius had taken the opportunity to light a bag full of Captain Combustion's Catherine Wheels that lit up the hall with a whole spectrum of bursting lights and colours as they spun around the enchanted ceiling. The last Remus had seen of his dark haired friend he was being dragged out of the hall by a thin-lipped McGonagall who was hissing under her breath about the filthy state of owlery and how something needed to be done about that.

Remus had left dinner soon after to finish his homework, leaving James and Peter to continue gorging on their dessert of cake and ice cream. As it was, he wasn't particularly hungry anyway.

The full moon was in two days time and his appetite was beginning to shrink. That was also why he was so determined to finish all of his homework quickly. While he hardly looked forward to his transformations usually, this particular full moon had been looming oppressively over him for several days now. He was all too aware that it was his first transformation since making friends with James, Sirius and Peter, and that he was going to have to lie to them about it. He had been planning for days what he was going to tell them. Sirius already believed that he some recurring debilitating illness, so recycling that idea was the best he could come up with. At least he should look the part. He knew that his depleted appetite and the lack of sleep he suffered in the build up, as well as the stress of the weight of the moon bearing down on his mind often made him appear a lot paler and sickly than usual.

Reminding himself of his plan and the hopeful security it gave him did little to comfort him, however. He hated the idea of betraying his friends, particularly when they had gone out of their way to get to know him and had been noting but accepting. Unfortunately, there really wasn't any other option and he knew he had to do what was necessary. He certainly couldn't tell them the truth.

With a frustrated sigh, Remus pushed away his uncompleted essay and began flicking through his transfiguration textbook, reading ahead at what they would be learning during his forthcoming mysteriously absence.

Just at that moment, Peter and James entered the common room, and made their way over to him. Both looked suitably full, though Remus thought Peter's face had taken on a distinctly green tinge. They slumped down into the seats opposite Remus.

"I don't know what it is," James was saying. "There's just something about the flavour that I love."

"But it's chocolate syrup and pumpkin juice. It's unnatural," Peter replied. He definitely did not look well, Remus decided.

"What's wrong with it? You get the tanginess of the juice and the chocolaty goodness of the syrup all mixed together into one delicious pumpkin-chocolate delight. I don't get why no one else likes it."

Peter groaned and folded his head in his arms on the tabletop. "Can we please stop talking about this," he whimpered.

James turned to Remus instead. "It honestly is good. You all treat me like I'm some sort of freak for liking it but then you won't even try it."

Remus held up his hands innocently. "I've never called you a freak."

"Yeah, but then, you eat parsnips so you don't count."

"Urgh, please, no more food," Peter moaned from somewhere behind his forearms. "I think I ate too much."

James laughed and patted him sympathetically on the back. "I think you ate too much, too," he said with an impish grin. "But you were fine until that last bowl. You really need to learn your limitations Pete; there's only so much cake a boy can eat. Hey, that rhymes!"

"But I can never tell when to stop."

"Don't worry, wisdom will come to you with age, my friend," James advised sagely. "At least, for your sake, we can hope so."

Peter simply groaned again. "I'm going to bed," he said, standing up. "Maybe I can sleep it off." With another moan, he disappeared up the staircase, hunched painfully over his stomach.

James laughed and turned back to Remus. "So, what are you up to tonight? Homework," he answered before the other boy could reply. "You know, sometimes I worry about you Remus. I really do." He shook his head affectionately and Remus shrugged.

James reached across the table and pulled the textbook towards him, affecting a posh accent as he read aloud from the page. "'The skill of transfiguring living creatures is one of the most fundamental skills in the magical world. Mammals are the most complex of all animals to transfigure, however the difficulty of the change is dependent upon the size of the mammal in question – the larger the more difficult – and thus starting small is always the best way to begin.'"

He pulled a face and passed the book back. "Getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren't you? I thought we weren't meant to start mammal transfigurations for a few days yet?"

Remus shrugged again. "I just want to stay onto top of my work," he lied smoothly. "I'm not as good at it as you."

James just scoffed. "Close enough," he said, waving a hand dismissively in the air. He glanced quickly around the common room. "Sirius not back yet?"

Remus shook his head. "No. I imagine McGonagall will keep him busy for a while."

"Ha, he probably won't be back for hours knowing her. I guess he should've known better than to set off fireworks in the Great Hall, right under her nose." He paused for a moment and smiled fondly. "Still, it was pretty cool. This has been the best birthday ever."

Remus shuffled in his seat and looked up at him. "Yeah… um, happy birthday, by the way," he mumbled.

"You already said that this morning," James reminded him. "But thanks."

"Um… here," Remus said, reaching into his bag and passing him a small box over the table.

James' eyes danced between Remus and the box, his face caught in a mixture of pleasure, confusion and guilt. "You didn't have to get me anything, you know," he said, looking uncomfortable but obviously pleased at getting a present.

By now, all of the boys were aware of Remus' financial situation. While Peter shrugged it off and Sirius went leaps and bounds out of his way to evade the topic, James was obviously the most uncomfortable with it. It had clearly made him rethink his own wealth and just how much he had taken his family's money for granted.

"I didn't expect you to… you know. I mean, you didn't have to get me anything," he continued awkwardly.

"It's really nothing," Remus said. "I made them myself so they didn't cost anything and, well, they're not very good or really all that useful but…" He shrugged.

James looked at him curiously before turning to the box and opening the lid. Inside were five small paper planes, each roughly the size of a sparrow. Smiling, James tipped them out onto the table, examining them happily.

"Cool, thanks," he said, picking one up and inspecting it from all angles. "I've never got how people make these, they're really cool."

"They can fly," Remus explained quickly. "Well, not very well, but they can stay afloat for a while. And I charmed them to go wherever you want them to. Even if you throw them off course, so long as you think about the destination they should get there. Eventually."

James' smile broadened and he quickly tested it out, looking over at Lily who sat with Michelle and Annabel on a couch across the room and throwing one of the small planes in the opposite direction. The plane turned in mid flight and drifted lightly over towards the girls, dipping at the last minute and getting caught in Lily's hair. The girl felt the touch and turned to glare at the offensive little plane.

James laughed delightedly. "Well, I meant for it to land in her lap, but that works." He grinned back at Remus. "These are really cool, Remus. I can't believe you charmed them all yourself, I didn't know we'd learnt how yet."

Remus flushed slightly. "I read about it. I took ages for me to get it right, though. They kept getting stuck flying in circles instead of actually going anywhere. And there were twelve of them at first, you know, because you're twelve now, but…" His flush deepened. "Well, Madam Pince attacked a couple when I was making them in the library and another went a bit off course and flew out the window. And then a bunch of them caught fire while I was charming them, but that shouldn't happen again. No fire hazards, I promise."

James laughed and caught the small plane that came sailing back to their table from where Annabel had thrown it. Lily was scowling at James while her friends laughed. The small plane was slightly crumpled up; obviously, Lily had taken out some of her annoyance on it before it was saved by Annabel. James smiled in a strangely affectionate manner as he carefully straightened a bent wing, placing it back in its box with the others.

"Really, Remus, thanks," he said with complete sincerity. "I really like them. Me and Sirius have been trying to come up with a new system for pacing notes across the class and these will work great."

"Oh, well, I know this spell you could use that hides writing you don't want people to see," Remus said, sitting up eagerly. "You just need to say the spell and it vanishes then say it again and it becomes visible. It's a pretty common charm so a lot of people would know it but… well, I could show you how sometime if you're interested."

James grinned. "Yeah, that'd be great. You know, you're a pretty handy person to have around, Lupin."

Remus shrugged, feeling a bit embarrassed but pleased all the same.

The two were silent for several moments as Remus turned back to his abandoned Herbology essay and James amused himself by drawing small stick figure cartoons on the corner of Remus' parchment.

Suddenly, he looked up and peered at Remus curiously from behind his lopsided glasses. "So, when's your birthday then?" he asked.

Remus looked at him silently for several moments, blinking quickly. A number of thoughts flickered through his mind. While his initial reaction was to lie, to tell him it had been months ago, he almost immediately discarded that idea. He decided instead to tell the truth. The guilt that bubbled deep in his stomach about the lie he was going to tell them for the full moon wouldn't allow him to avoid the truth this time, particularly about something so comparatively trivial, even if the answer did make things slightly uncomfortable.

"The tenth," Remus said finally.

"The tenth of what?" James pursued.

Remus hesitated for a moment and looked up at his friend. One of James' eyebrows was curled upwards and he was watching with a curious, but slightly worried expression. Finally, Remus sighed and answered. "March," he said quietly, hoping maybe his friend wouldn't hear.

Unfortunately, luck had never favoured Remus. "The tenth of March?" James repeated. "As in, two and a half weeks ago?"

Remus nodded.

James stared at him, dumbfounded before suddenly exploding. "Why didn't you say something! You knew us then, you could have told us. We would have done something for you."

"It's not a big deal," Remus replied quickly. "I just didn't want to make a fuss."

James stared at him again before laughing and shaking his head incredulously. "Merlin, you're strange," he said with affection. "What twelve year old boy doesn't want people to know it's his birthday? That really is just plain weird."

Remus just nodded and shrugged. "I thought you knew that about me already."

James laughed. "Oh, I did. I just never knew you were so far gone. 'Didn't want to make a fuss', honestly?" He shook his head tragically. "Tell me you at least got some good presents."

"My parents sent me a card, and a new quill," Remus answered.

"…And?"

Remus shrugged, adding a few lines to his essay. "That's all," he said.

The messy haired boy stared at him once more, blinking heavily in disbelief. "A quill? That can't be all?"

Remus nodded. "I needed it. My old one was malting everywhere. It gets kind of annoying having to blow little tufts of feathers off your parchment when you're trying to take notes."

James was still looking at him with a shocked expression on his face. "But, you got more than that right? I mean, it's your birthday; didn't anyone else send anything?"

"There isn't anyone else, only my parents."

"But, that can't be it. I mean, I know you're poor but surely your parents can afford more than…" He broke off as he suddenly realised what he'd said. Looking shocked and embarrassed, he quickly began trying to apologise but Remus smoothly cut him off.

"Maybe they could, maybe they couldn't. It doesn't really matter," he replied with an easy shrug. "There wasn't anything else I needed. And besides," he added with a small grin, "It's a _really _nice quill."

He held up the implement in question, shaking it so the feathers rustled in the air. James smiled slightly and nodded, appreciatively. "It's very nice," he agreed quietly.

The silence that followed was more than slightly awkward. Remus tried to ignore the air of discomfort that settled over them while he put the finishing touches on his essay, adding the final full stop with a flourish and a deep sigh that were mainly for the other boy's benefit. But James simply sat across from him staring broodingly at the table. He looked vaguely worried, and for some reason upset, as he gazed intently at the desktop, fingers scratching at the wood absently.

Suddenly he jumped – startling Remus who very nearly upended his inkpot as he flinched – and tugged open his bag. "What are you doing?" Remus asked, watching his friend rummage frantically through the miscellaneous junk that filled his pack.

James didn't reply save to make a small shushing sound and continued his search. He finally emerged several moments later with something clutched in his fist. He quickly hid it beneath the table when he noticed Remus watching. "Stop looking," he said with all seriousness. "I want it to be a surprise."

Obediently, though with a slightly mocking expression, Remus shut his eyes, covering them with his hands. He listened carefully as James shuffled about on the other side of the table, trying to work out what was going on.

"Alright, you can open your eyes now," James said after a few moments and Remus looked up. "Here." James pushed a small object towards him, a scrap of parchment folded awkwardly around it, the words 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY' scrawled around the sides in James' familiar, surprisingly neat handwriting.

Remus blinked several times quickly as he picked it up, casting James a confused look. "It's my birthday present for you," the boy explained. "I know it's a bit late, but, well, it's not like I was given any warning so…" He waved his hand, gesturing for him to open it.

But Remus continued to stare at it. "James, you don't have to do this –"

"Just shut up and open it, will you," the dark haired boy interrupted with a grin.

Smiling, Remus carefully unfolded the paper, pulling out the small gift inside. It was an inkpot, chipped slightly at the lip and not entirely full and stained by the emerald green ink inside.

"It's to go with your quill," James explained. "You always use black ink so I figured you could use a change in colour." The boy winced slightly and sighed. "I know it's pretty stupid, normally of course I'd actually get you something better but –"

"It's good, James. Thank you," Remus cut across him, smiling sincerely up at him. James' eyebrows leapt onto his forehead in a half-stunned, half-disbelieving expression.

Remus flushed. "No, really; thank you. It's the thought that counts, and all that." And he meant it. As silly as it was to be pleased with such a frankly feeble present, he was touched by the gesture. It was the first present he had ever received from someone other than his parents. It was the first present he had ever gotten from a friend.

James curled one of his eyebrows again. "I know I already said this tonight, but you really are so weird," he said, shaking his head.

Remus laughed. "That's okay, I know."

"Well, so long as you're aware of it," James replied. "So, happy belated birthday," he added with a wide grin.

Remus matched his smile. "Happy on-time birthday."

Suddenly, the Fat Lady's portrait was flung open and Sirius appeared in the common room. He quickly made his way to where James and Remus sat, his face as dark and ominous as a storm cloud, eyes flashing and cracking with anger.

"You better bloody well have liked those fireworks, Potter," he said as he reached them. "Because of them, bloody McGonagall had me rake up all the mess on the floor in the owlery, droppings and all. Can you believe that?"

James snorted. "Ah… yes? At least, judging by the state of your robes, I can."

Sirius picked at the shoulder of his black school uniform, noticing for the first time the splatters of white and grey owl droppings that covered his shoulders and back.

Remus' cheek twitched as he fought to hold back laughter. "And hair," he added, trying desperately not to smile.

With wide eyes, Sirius' hands flew to his dark hair that was hidden somewhere beneath a liberal coating of bird droppings. The look of abject sorrow that dawned on his face was enough to finally push both James and Remus over the edge. Tears sprang to their eyes as they howled with laughter, James throwing his head back and thumping his fist on his knee as Remus gasped into his hand, clutching at the table.

Sirius cast them the dirtiest look he could possibly summon. "Some friends you are," he muttered, and vanished up the staircase to the dorm, leaving James and Remus behind in the common room, tears running down their faces as they laughed together.

* * *

_A/N: To start off, I apologise for any mistakes in grammar, spelling, what have you. I only did a really quick read through before posting this, but I couldn't spot any glaring mistakes. Please, if you find any, point them out to me. I like being able to fix things._

_This will only be a short A/N (for a change). I'm running off to the airport in about - checks watch - five minutes to go on holiday. Great Barrier Island; kudos and cookies for anyone who actually knows what that is. So, I'll be completely incommunicado for about two weeks, no electricity, no internet, no computer, no nothing, so if you do review, please don't hate me for not responding immediately. I'll will when I get back. Also, send me your positive thoughts, I need writing encouragement. I usually get a bit of writing done at the Barrier, but have done none at all since I was there last summer. I really want to keep writing this thing, but it just doesn't seem to be happening._

_So, please read and review. I hope you liked this chapter, it's probably one of my favourites._

_Bon Voyage! (Pray my tiny mosquito plane doesn't crash in this crappy weather.)_


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